#also can you tell i really like gordon?

[thelegendarypusheen-art]

joker origin story

[winkyfaceanon]

I have not touch rlai in months. And now I need to re-write. It's bothering me so much

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (prt 4)

Masterpost

The bats worked through the night, coordinating and researching everything that needed to be done. Distortion showed up on the camera which they assumed was Vlad trying to get in but he didn’t manage it. After he finished trying from multiple angels including somehow from directly above (well Zatana did say invisibility, intangibility, and flight were the minimal powers they should expect from creatures of the infinite realms.) He turned human again and spent a long time banging on their front door.

He tried to call the cops but commissioner Gordon called Bruce directly to get the full story then told Vlad it could be dealt with in the morning. Zatana was also coordinating people heading to Amity, a full on raid of the GIW, and the Fentons.

Batman and Superman were collecting all the information that the raid team was sending out and workshopping public statements they could sent out to the public and the government about the unacceptable things they had found and the steps the JL was taking to fix it. The government was not going to be happy they knew, with the JL ‘over-stepping’ into their business and actually getting the word out about the atrocities a branch of their government and their pet scientists had been planning. The JL needed to get out ahead of it before the narrative could be twisted against them.

It was first thing in the morning when they did a live broadcast from the watchtower with Batman, Superman, and Zatana telling the world about the parallel world existing harmlessly along side their own, and the way the government tried to exploit it. The atrocities committed under the name of the Anti-Ecto acts with the ignorance of the public as a cover.

It was at the same time that Constantine, Dick, and Cas were raiding the Fenton’s home. Of course they were armed, but so were the bats, and they were used to fighting people who were armed. It wasn’t a particularly hard fight.

A redhead was sitting wide eyed at the kitchen table. “Can’t we just have one normal day!” She suddenly snapped but she was glaring at her parents, standing up and slamming her hands on the table.  “First you send Danny away with Vlad even though you KNOW they hate each other and it’s a school day and now this! What did you do to bring the heroes down on us!?”

“I don’t know Jazzybear!” Jack half whined as he was forced into power supressing cuffs to neutralize his minor super strength and sat down in the living room.

“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding, don’t worry sweetie,” Maddie added, both of them were dressed in jump suits which did not help their supervillain vibes.

“it’s not a mistake mate, you’ve been messing with shit you really shouldn’t. And that portal in your basement is a fucking beacon welcoming a war. You’ve gone unchecked for too god damn long, we’re taking over things now.” Constantine told them before stalking down into the basement with Tim on his heels, Batman would be joining them as soon as they were done their press conference.

Cas stayed to watch the parents and Dick approached Jazz gently. “Hey can I talk to you in private please? It’s about your brother,” He said gently and she stiffened immediately. Looking at him in a way that made him feel like she could see straight into his soul and froze him to the spot. After a moment though she just sighed and nodded, beckoning to him to follow her upstairs, to a room that was probably Danny’s not her own. She sat on his bed and grabbed a bear that had been sitting on the edge, waving for him to sit at the desk.

“So, what do you know?” She asked with a sigh.

“Well, last night Vlad took Danny to a Wayne Gala, one of Bruce’s daughter Cas is really good with body language and clocked that something was wrong so she and one of the other kids got him away from Vlad and out of the party. I guess he really needed some adult support because he broke down and told them a lot, about the Phantom thing, the ghosts and… something you’re not going to like. But first I want you to know he’s safe, Bruce Wayne is a licensed foster parent and he’s taking good care of Danny, you can come live with them too if you want.

“We’re going to deal with the ghosts and the GIW and everything else now, I can’t promise by the end of this you won’t need somewhere else to go. I have a feeling if Batman and the Martian family have anything to say about this your parents will end up in prison for their unethical experiments.”

“As long as Danny is okay,” Jazz said firmly. “I was only staying to take care of him anyway, just get me emancipated and a scholarship for Gotham U so I can study while still being close to him I’ll be fine. I’m almost 18 as it is.”

Dick nodded, she was a smart and driven girl, she knew what she wanted, he could respect that. “Now, the thing you won’t like…” he trailed off and took a deep breath. “Danny is pregnant.”

“What!?“ Jazz blanched, gaping at him for a long minute. “That can’t be right! I mean I knew he was trans but he’s usually only interested in girls, how would he even-“ She cut off her eyes widening. “It was Vlad wasn’t it?” She gritted out with an expression the promised excruciating violence.

“Yes,” Dick said shifting awkwardly in his chair.

“Right.” Jazz said and got up, coldly calm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed a baseball bat from next to Danny’s bed that seemed to be glowing slightly then marched to the other side of the room, opened a cabinet and pulled out two odd looking guns. Before Dick could say much of anything she had vaulted out of the window and taking off down the street.

“Oh dear,” Dick muttered faintly before heading back downstairs. “Hey Cas can we turn on the news, some sort of local station?” He asked. Cas nodded and searched around for the remote, turning it on to find the channel was already on local news.

Vlad was already on there, talking about how it was awful Bruce Wayne had Kidnapped a local child Danial Fenton, and he could not be allowed to get away with this just because he was rich! But that didn’t last long, they watched for a few minutes before a blur of red hair and blue rushed past the camera.

“YOU TOUCHED MY BROTHER YOU CREEP!” Jazz said as she came out swinging and she must have quite the arm because her first swing sent him nearly flying off the stage. He scrambled to get up as she lunged at him again.

“Now Jasmine you’ve clearly been misinformed, I didn’t do anything-“ His muffled voice was cut off as she swung the bat again and he yelped as she hit him in the stomach.

“YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT! YOU DID THIS! YOU SHOULD BEHIND BARS NOT BEHIND A PODIUM YOU FROOTLOOP!” She shrieked as she swung again and this time he managed to dodge. The cameras following them as Jazz chased him down the street, the sound of his supplications and her shrieking fading out as they became more and more distant.

It took a frantic moment for the camera angle to switch to something else, maybe a drone, which was able to follow them down the street.

“You Don’t UNDERSTAND! I didn’t want to hurt him! I just wanted a perfect son! If he had just agreed to be my son none of this would have happened! When I knew it failed I told him to let them die!” Vlad yelled at her, though that did NOT seem to comfort Jazz at all. She had devolved into shrieking book titles like curses as she chased him with the bat and shot at him with the guns though her aim didn’t seem very good.

Well they had him admitting to it on camera now. As he watched a new actor joined the fray, a girl in a red jumpsuit holding a blaster.

“You did what to Danny!?” She demanded as she pointed the blaster at Vlad.

“Oh cheespuffs!” Vlad breathed, his eyes widening as Jazz trailed off letting who must be Red Huntress take over the chase as Vlad shouted about how he had made her! He had given her her weapons she couldn’t use them against him! Which did not seem to be stopping her.

The camera fuzzed out for just a second and then Valery was chasing a ghost with red eyes and a white outfit. Cas was laughing silently at the show and both of the Fenton parents seemed to be in shock. A few minutes later Jazz walked back in through the front door looking tired.

“Turn that off please,” she sighed as she put the bat down.

“Of course,” Cas agreed and picked up the remote again, turning off the tv. 

“Vlad didn’t actually do that, did he Jazzy?” Jack asked softly, he sounded so hurt, as if he had any fucking right!

Jazz looked at him blankly. “How many times have we tried to warn you about him? How many times has Danny told you he didn’t feel safe with Vlad? But as usual you couldn’t see past your own desires. I’m going to go see if the trenchcoat guy needs any help getting into your files,” She sighed before vanishing downstairs. 

Dick glanced at Cas, and then followed them, she would have no trouble watching the Fentons and staying quiet whereas Dick felt like he was about to explode. Batman joined them before long and between the three of them they shut the bulkheads on the portal and locked them, secured dangerous chemicals and devices, and downloaded everything they could. There were plenty of prototypes and blueprints, and stuff that could generously be called research.

It was obvious these people were geniuses but it was even more obvious that at some point they had become careless and obsessive. Half of the writing on the blueprints wasn’t legible, dangerous chemicals were not in proper containment, and the weapons were not locked up. Looking at all of this it wasn’t surprising that two of the people they had been involving in their research suffered exposure, it was a surprise more hadn’t. It was easy to tell when Bruce came down he was horrified, it was in the way he froze when he saw the lab, as if his brain was struggling to process just how irresponsible the Fenton parents had been.

“You must be Jazz, it’s nice to meet you. Danny speaks highly of you,” He finally rebooted to say when she waved at him. 

“I love my little brother, I always did the best I could to keep him safe from… all this,” Jazz said gesturing at the lab with a sigh. “I wish it had done any good.”

“You did plenty of good,” Dick put in. “Trust me, to a kid having someone care about them can make all the difference. 

“All those nights I patched him up after he came back from fighting ghosts. He healed fast but still. I can’t believe… he’s already been through so much and we knew Vlad was up to something! Ellie said she was our cousin but she looked just like him, I should have kept a closer eye on-” She cut off and shook her head. “He’s a good kid, of course if he couldn’t give the babies up, even if it would be better for them if he did. I hope he knows I’d support him either way, I hope he didn’t not tell me because he thought I’d be upset at Him.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Dick assured her gently. “Being a big sibling is hard, I know. But trust me you’re doing a great job, better than I did with my brothers,” he said, patting her shoulder. “You can ask him yourself later though. We have a lot to get done today to make sure he’s safe.”

She nodded stubbornly and doubled down on her work, directing them occasionally to where she knew they’d find more weapons or logs. She knew her way around the lab to a disturbing extent. 

Bruce and Dick both got a notification from Agent A saying that after a substantial sleep in Danny had woken up and was having breakfast. He seemed worried about the family but he was taking it alright, especially since he knew they were busy people. It did motivate Dick to clear things up as soon as they could so that they could get back to Danny though. The last thing he needed was More stress!

They had plenty of evidence of the Fenton parents breaking the law to call the police and have them taken away which gave them all the time they needed to strip the house. They got everything they could and decided to leave Constantine at the house to watch the portal until they could figure out how to shut it down completely without causing any damage. It seemed unstable so they didn’t want to risk it just now, especially without Danny’s input because according to Jazz Danny had made genuine connections in the Infinite Realms. 

They wrapped up this stage of the investigation before dinner after being up for about 36 hours. Of course they weren’t Done, there was still plenty to do investigating the government, how they’d gotten away with this and if they had any other nasty tricks up their sleeve. They’d have to manage any backlash from this unilateral move, and they’d have to figure out what to tell the public about Danny since Bruce would be fostering him. But all that could be done after having a family dinner with their new brother and a nap. 

part 5

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[i-cant-sing]

Jason with baby reader whose very affectionate with him but a total menace with everyone else?

Platonic Yandere Batfam x reader

Yesss obviously 💖💖💖 okay but like imagine something with me:

Reader being the youngest addition to the batfam, could be Bruce's bio kid or not, doesn't really matter. The only reason she even ended up at the Wayne Manor was because perhaps Gordon kinda begged Bruce to take you in because he doesn't want you to end in the horrible foster system of Gotham, just asking Bruce to look after you for a couple of months until Gordon can find a good home and adopt you himself.

Anyways, that doesn't happen because Gordon dies. So what was supposed to be a few months, ended up being an indefinite stay.

Okay usually this would be the point when their yandere tendencies start to show but let's say this time- it don't happen.

Look Bruce and the batfam are like super busy with that crime fighting life, believe it or not, vigilant-y life takes a lot of their time. When their not busy saving Gotham, they're either at home resting and recovering, or at work/school. They simply do not have time for family bonding.

Or so you thought.

You've seen the boys going to the "secret" batcave (u found out soon about their hero identities, cause you're smart like that.) and they spend a lot of time training, so they're definitely bonding. While you don't reveal that you already know about their identities and continue to play the fool, it still kinda... hurts to be surrounded by so many people who are supposed to be "family" yet don't treat you as such. Damian snaps at you anytime you ask if you could join him and the others on anything theire doing- even something as simple as just playing video games.

(And then i found out about Damian and Dick being each others fav siblings) Dick tries to be amicable but even he'd turn down hanging with you in favour of taking Damian out to the carnival, saying something along the lines of "Oh Y/n, its just- I haven't seen Damian in a looong time, and it'd be unfair to him if I brought you along because he's just been lookin forward to this outing for so long. Maybe we can do something next time?" But next time doesn't come around, with Dick always prioritising Damian over you.

You thought that Tim would be easier to spend time with, since he's home a lot more than others, but he's a workaholic to the core, and even of you did swing by with a coffee, just to check up on him, he'd plain out tell you to leave, to bother someone else because he just doesn't have the time. And yet there he was, talking for hours on the phone with Conner.

Jason was nice to you even though you initially thought he'd hate you like he hated Damian and well... his other brothers and Bruce as well. But surprisingly, you got along with him. Probably because he thought of you as this sweet kid who didn't know any better about the world, who just needs to be shielded by Gotham and more importantly- Bruce. Maybe that's why Jason talked to you- you're the only one in the house who's not a hero. Maybe that's what he needed: a healthy relationship with someone normal. And it would've been great if he actually hung around more than an hour. No, he was far too busy with ending criminals, or as he liked to tell you "my job doesn't allow me any holidays. Also, I hate Bruce and would swallow a cactus than stay in his home." But at least he brought you souvenirs from the around the world! His "job" had him travelling the world.

Perhaps the boys are just too busy, or don't like spending time with girls, so you decided to go to Bruce. But he's always busy, either with work or with Gotham, or with one of his sons. He is aware of your presence, he just doesn't exactly know what to do about it. With you not being a vigilante or exhibiting any qualities that he would deem extraordinary or impressive, he doesn't know what to do with you. Sure, he's set you an account where he's given you more than enough money to cover all your expenses and everything else, but that's all he gives. Just financing you until you're independent. He doesn't check in with you, not really interested in your average life, and he won't say it out loud but sometimes, he may have even forgotten about you. A few times, he may have taken you along with him to some galas with his sons, and when you're alone with him, you can sense that he's not... pleased? Content? Happy? Sure, he puts an arm around your shoulder and smiles for the cameras, but you can see the way his eyes wander around the room to find something more interesting, more worthy of his attention. The way he taps his fingers with unease, giving you curt replies and dismissive smiles when you tried to talk about schoo or anything, it all made you realise that you are not a child in his eyes.

You are a burden.

No. No, that couldn't possibly be the case. I mean, he took you in. Bruce wouldn't do that if he didn't care about you, right?

Still, to test that theory, you left the gala, alone and without informing anyone. Surely, he or one of the boys would notice your absence. Surely.

They didn't, even as the gala ended, they all left in their own cars, no one even thought to stop and wonder if you were riding with any of them. Hurt and depressed, you made the stupid decision of walking home in your fancy gown. Of course you'd be pulled in the alleyway and be mugged. The low lives decided that they wanted more than just your money, and when you realised their vile intentions, you began thrashing in their arms to break free, resulting in one of them punching your face repeatedly. Just when you thought all was lost, suddenly those pervs were thrown off you and were shot dead. You looked up and were surprised to find out who was your saviour-

Red Hood.

"Jason?"

"Y/n? I mean, who?" Jason was shocked to see you here, more so when you recognised it was him under the mask.

You rolled your eyes. "You can drop the act, Jay. I've known for a while." You groaned in pain as he helped you up. "Shit, you okay?" He asked, helping you walk towards a nearby bench. "Yeah. I mean I got mugged, but yeah..."

"Wait, what are you even doing out here this late?" You told him about the gala. "Soooo... why didn't you go home with them?"

You shrugged. "Just needed to confirm something."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

You remained silent, not wanting to discuss the topic further. Jason sighed before pulling out his phone. "I'm gonna call, Alfred. Have him send a car so pick you up." You grabbed his hand before he could dial.

"I cant- I don't want to go home." He raised a brow. "Why? What's wrong? Did Bruce do something? I swear to god I'll beat-" you shook your head. "No, Jay- look, I just need a break. If it's not too much to ask, can I spend the night with you? Or you can lend me some money and I'll stay at a hotel or something. Promise I'll go back home tomorrow."

Jason stared at you, trying to figure what's bothering you, but he also didn't want to push you by asking. So he nodded. "Of course, you can stay with me tonight. But only if you promise to make me your delicious chocolate chip cookies tomorrow." You smiled, nodding.

Jason took you to his apartment, cleaned up your wounds, cooked you dinner, cracked some jokes and then tucked you in bed. He actually tucked you in bed. He'd never know, but that simple gesture had you crying until you finally fell asleep.

When you returned home the next day, you weren't really surprised that no one had noticed you didn't return home last night.

No one in that house even knew how you were almost rap-

"Miss Y/n?" Alfred called from the kitchen, eyes wide as he took in your bruised face. "What happened? Are you alright?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I fell on the concrete pavement, someone pushed me accidentally-"

"Alfred?!" Bruce called from the dining room.

"You better go. And Alfred-" He stopped. "-don't mention this to him. I don't want him to worry over nothing."

Alfred nodded, leaving to serve Bruce and the boys breakfast. You don't think he'd tell Bruce and even if he did, you don't think he'd actually worry-

"Y/n?" Bruce was standing at your door, eyes narrowing at your face. "Alfred told me you fell?" He walked upto you, inspecting your face. Wait, did he actually came to check up on-

"How many times did you fell? Face first? Because that's a lot of bruises."

"It was a concrete pavement."

"We don't have concrete pavements in the house."

"I was out leaving from a cafe when I fell. Just wanted to eat some bagels." You continued to lie.

Bruce narrowed his eye at you before sighing. "Look, I don't have time for this. If you're in trouble, just tell me."

"I'm not."

"Then do you really expect me to believe that you fell? Is this a desperate cry for attention?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you really did fall in public, "multiple times" as you claim, did you at least get a cab? I don't want anyone taking pictures of you like this and make headlines tomorrow about one of the Wayne kids being abused. I won't have you tarnish the family name."

What? Did he just- did he really say that?

"No. Its not-" you were interrupted by his phone ringing, and Bruce left you to take the call.

You sat there on your bed, dumbfounded and even more heartbroken than before, mind replaying the words over and over again, trying to make sense, make EXCUSES for him, that perhaps you misunderstood him.

But you didn't.

That day, you had finally given up on the batfam. You refused to make a fool of yourself any longer by hoping that one day they'd accept you. You were and always will be an outsider to them. You won't depend on him any longer, even for your finances.

Years went by and you worked hard on yourself to get admission in a highly prestigious college with a fully funded scholarship, all while you worked to handle your expenses. When you got your admission letter, you didn't even bother telling anyone at home about it. Instead, you went out for lunch with Jason to celebrate (who had been dropping by more regularly ever since that night you were mugged), who was more than overjoyed, ruffling your hair and telling you how proud he was of "the only sibling smart enough to bust him out of jail and retirement homes." Jason truly did want this for you- to be normal and go to college like other normal people.

You moved out of the Wayne Manor quietly and moved into your college dorms in a different city, where you found an even better job on the side. The job that now helped you save up enough money to start paying Bruce back for all the years he had to spend housing, clothing and feeding you.

After a couple of months, you were able to wrote your first cheque to Bruce. And if it weren't for the large sum of money and your name attached to it, Bruce wouldn't have realised that he hadn't talked or even seen you for a while. He didn't allow himself to feel guilty for thinking that he may have forgotten about your existence for quite some time.

Picking up the phone, he called you and asked you about the cheque.

"I'm paying you back." Bruce was a little surprised to hear the monotonous tone.

"For?"

"The money you spent on me all these years?"

"Why? And how are you even paying?"

"I've got a job." What? When did this happen? "Look, I gotta go. I have class." You cut the call, and what class? As far as he remembers, Alfred had said something about attending your high-school graduation earlier this year.

Were you in college?

No, no. If you were attending college, he would know. Surely, you'd tell him. And even if you didn't or he forgot, he would remember paying for your tuition. Or maybe he already was, from the account in your name where he sent monthly payments.

Curious, he called the bank, only to be informed that you haven't used the account in years! They did inform him that you opened a separate account, and since Bruce owned the bank, they let him see the account and what you've using it for.

That's how he found out about your college.

You were just leaving your class to go home when you spotted him leaving the Dean's office. Apparently you were not the only one who spotted him, as your classmates all started talking about the famous Bruce Wayne. As Bruce's eyes met yours, you immediately turned and walked the opposite way until you had left the campus, and you went home.

You weren't surprised to see his car outside your apartment. But you were a little surprised to see him in sitting inside your apartment, sitting on the couch with an unamused expression.

"What do you want?" You asked, dropping your bag.

Bruce raised a brow at you. "What? No, hello?" He sighed. "Why did you leave the campus after seeing me?"

"I don't want to be associated with you."

His gaze turned stern. "Why? Are you embarrassed?"

No, I hate you. "No one will take me seriously if they knew I was related to you. I just want to be-"

"-independent? Is that why you sent me this cheque?" Bruce pulled out the piece of paper and dropped it on your coffee table. "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you, I just wanted to pay you off."

"You don't need to. You're family."

Only on paper. You thought.

You shrugged. "Doesnt matter. I'm paying you back every cent."

Bruce stood up, walking right in front of you and it was just then that he realised how much you'd grown up. You looked nothing like the scared little kid who was always peeking from around corners. You had matured, far too much for your age. He could see the little bags under your eyes, the wrinkles on your forehead, the disdain in your eyes.

"Why are you trying to cut me out of your life?" Before you could argue, he put a hand up. "I saw the documents. You didn't list "Wayne" as a surname on your college documents. You're trying to distance yourself from the Wayne name? Are you in trouble? Have you done something... dishonourable?"

You scoffed. All these years and all he cares about is his public image.

"Dont worry, I haven't done anything to bring down your family name." You spat. "Look, just take the cheque and leave. You'll never hear from me again, either in the media or otherwise."

Bruce glared at you, clearly slighted. "You're being difficult for no reason." You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from going off on him.

He turned around to leave, not bothering to pick up the cheque.

"How'd you get inside?" You asked when he opened the door. You wanted to know, especially since you took all the right measures Jason taught you to stop anyone from breaking in.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

"I bought the building."

-

You moved to a new place the next day, after you found out that the landlord refused to accept payments from you, since "your father owns the building. You don't need to pay rent." You wish it was easier to change schools though because apparently the everyone now knows you're Bruce Wayne's kid, which everyone figured out when someone called "Y/n WAYNE, please report to the Dean's office", who showed you that he had the college administration fix the little mess up of "forgetting to add Wayne to your name in all the documents" and then told you that he's very grateful to your father for his very generous donation to the college.

Bruce didn't bother you much after that interaction, except for monthly cheques and cash he'd send you, but you're never using cashing them. He also sends you regular invites to galas and social gatherings or even family dinner at home. You don't go to Wayne Manor anymore, not unless absolutely necessary.

Like today, when Bruce called you to come home for a "family portrait" for a magazine or something because the article is covering about all the Wayne kids.

You could already feel your throat closing up as the Manor came into view. You were greeted at the door by Alfred, the man saying he missed your presence at the manor. You just smiled and nodded.

"No luggage?" He inquired, noting that you only brought backpack.

"No. I won't be staying long."

You started making your way towards your room when you passed Damian's room.

"Y/n?" Dick called out, surprised to see you after so long. Or at all? You'd wonder.

"Hey." You said, eyes darting from him to the room where Tim and Damian were, both just as stunned to see you there.

"So, um... how are you?" Dick asked, unsure how to proceed this conversation.

"Great." You replied before turning around and walking to your room, leaving the boys befuddled.

Luckily, the photographer came soon and started with the shoot, and if it weren't for the photographer continuing to tell you to scoot closer to your brothers until Dick just pulled you and you ended up being squished in between them. Had Jason been here, things would be way more comfortable. But since he's been declared dead to the world, he can't be a part of the family portrait.

And later on, its time for dinner and reader is leaving but Bruce calls her back, telling her to at least stay for dinner if not for the night, and you tell him "I can't, exams are coming up." And he replies "really? The schedule your Dean sent me doesn't show any exams coming up." And after some back and forth, you finally sit down at the dinner table, chewing your food silently while the others talked. You were almost finished and this miserable reunion was coming to an end when one of them started to talk about something that triggered you.

It could be anything, from badmouthing Jason to even telling you to get off your high horse and stop thinking that you're better than them just because you've been living on your own and shit.

That's when you just couldn't hold back your anger and went off on them. Everything you'd experienced, all the emotional abuse and neglect you'd been subjected to from them, you told it all.

With tears in your eyes, you left the manor, only to be kidnapped by the Joker. Bruce and his sons didnt say anything to each other that night, except for replaying your words over and over again, simmering in their own guilt silently. Well, that was until-

"She wouldn't know the sacrifices we had to make to keep her blissfully unaware and ignorant of all the crime outside!" Damian yelled. "Just to keep her wrapped up in this bubble, outside of which is a world where she wouldn't ever truly survive if it wasn't for us!"

"Damian-" Dick sighed frustratedly. "-she never asked us to do this all. We chose this life, long before she came along. It's unfair."

"Unfair??? Then how could she claim she didn't feel "protected" when all we've done is slave over making this hellhole safe! How can she say that from the comfort of this home? She's nothing but ungrateful to us and to father! I'm telling you Grayson, if the tables were turned, she wouldn't ever make the sacrifices to save us!" Damian yelled before slamming the door on his way out.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he asked Tim. "Do you... think we've failed her?"

Tim was staring at the ceiling, keeping his thoughts to himself. He definitely felt guilty, he remembers the way he would dismiss you.

Tim's silence was enough answer for Dick, though the two didn't know what to do next.

Thankfully, Alfred did.

"Miss Y/n forgot her phone here last night. Should I parcel it-"

Tim was already out of his seat, grabbing it. "No, I'll take it to her." Turning around, he saw Dick also standing.

"We'll take it to her. Thanks Alfred."

-

10 hours later, the two brothers stood outside your apartment. They knocked, but you didn't answer.

"Maybe she's at college?" Dick wondered. "Wanna wait here or go- Tim, wait for me!" His younger brother was already down the stairs when they saw Jason outside.

"What are you two dimwits doing here?" Jason asked, actually surprised to see them there.

"Y/n forgot her phone." Tim said, pulling out your phone. "She's not home. We're going to her college."

Jason's brows furrowed. "Why? She doesn't have classes today. We were supposed to meet for breakfast."

Dick couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of your relationship with Jason. Were you always this close to him? And why Jason, he was home far less than any of them.

Jason moved past them to your apartment, a spare key in his hand. "Maybe she just doesn't want to see you two."

Again, Dick couldn't help the envy that creeped up on him at the sight of Jason using a spare key to let himself in, the feeling only intensifying when he spotted many frames with pictures of you and Jason together.

After checking the whole place, you weren't there. Now, it was time for Jason to start panicking, as he asked them what happened at the manor, and he blew up at them as well for pissing you off like that.

When they had confirmed that you weren't in college or had ever returned to the city yesterday, they all went into panic mode as they informed Bruce about you going missing.

They all rushed back to Gotham, where Bruce had already pulled up CCTV footage of the place where you were last seen, hearts dropping when they saw someone come up from behind and knock you out, before kidnapping you. But no matter how much they searched for you, how many goons they beat up, they couldn't find you.

It is during this time that their yandere tendencies start to develop.

And it wasn't until a week later when they received a hint about your whereabouts, and they finally found you, in a warehouse, chained to the ceiling, a shock collar around your neck, all bruised and beaten because come on, Joker ain't gonna go easy on you.

The torture he subjected you to, it was almost comparable to the one Jason had to suffer. You were unnervingly still, and they couldn't help but wonder whether you were... dead.

That was until the shock collar went off and you screamed as your body jolted, Joker's manically laughing in the shadows.

"She's a tough one, much better than the wannabe Robin! I've been shocking her, waterboarding her, whipping her all week but she refused to tell me your real identities! I was starting to believe her when she said she didn't know, but it's just fun seeing her writhe in pain-!"

They beat Joker up, while one of them takes the collar and chains off you. You'd passed out from pain and exhaustion, and when you woke up, you were back in your room at the manor. While you were unconscious, Jason did end up revealing about how you actually did know about them being vigilantes, further intensifying their guilt and increasing their yandere tendencies, after all they do realise how they've failed to protect you.

So the story from here progresses on to when reader is actually forced by the family to stay in the manor to heal, all while their need to protect you increases the more you refuse their help.

When your injuries have healed and you're ready to leave, but they don't let you. Bruce tries to approach you, gently telling you that you need to be at home with your family, where you're safe. He wants one more chance at righting all his wrongs, he won't shy away- he admits he's made mistakes in the past with you. You back away when he tries to come closer to you.

"You don't get to choose to make up for your mistakes when you feel guilty, not when I had to spend all those years learning to live with your horrible parenting."

Tim spoke up next, telling you to just listen to what he has to say, but you cut him off with a dismissive hand.

"This is how you used to brush me away whenever I came to you, like I was some sort of fly, always too busy, too much of a hassle to even reply to a simple hello. So, why should I give you my time of the day now?"

Dick tries the comforting approach too, surely you don't hate him as much since he wasn't even around that much in the first place to cause you any hurt, promising you that he will do better this time. But you shut him down quickly too.

"I was never a priority for you then. I used to sit on these stairs, waiting for you day and night to finally be able to spend time with you. I know better by now than to trust your false promises."

Damian had a melt down next because you insulted his favourite brother. He went off on you that you never had to suffer through the same trauma as he or any of them did. How it's unfair that you don't give them another chance, how you don't understand that the Wayne's aren't a perfect family because of all the horrible things they've had to and still do go through on a daily basis.

You stared at him for a few moments before replying.

"I was almost r*ped."

The room went deadly silent, Bruce's mouth agape, Damian's eyes widening, while Dick and Tim turned pale.

"The night we went to that gala, you guys all left without me. I was pulled in an alley, mugged and almost r*ped if it weren't for Jason." You chuckled dryly. "What's worse is that none of you even bothered to call me, or even noticed that I hadn't returned home that night. I could've been dead in a ditch and none of you would've noticed for months, if not years." You wiped the tear that escaped your eye. "None of you attended my graduation, none of you noticed I had left for college, not until I sent a cheque to Bruce. I've buried you all in my past, and if it helps you sleep at night, I have forgiven you as well but I will never forget."

You looked at Damian. "And just because you've gone through some shit Damian, doesn't mean I'm undeserving of love and respect. I've experienced traumatising incidents too but the difference between you and me is that I don't use them an excuse to be a fucking dickhead."

You heard a car honk from outside. "Jason's here to drive me home- my home."

But before you could take another step, Tim had injected you with something. You jumped back, holding the puncture wound on your neck.

"W-what did you do?!" You yelled at him, and Tim only shrugged. "What's necessary."

You heard another honk, and this time, you opened your mouth to yell for Jason, only to have a hand slap over your mouth, muffling your screams for help. It was Dick, as he quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, dragging you away from the door as Bruce ordered Tim to put the whole house on lock down mode (essentially an impenetrable fortress), while Damian went outside to release his anger on Jason, both for failing as a brother to you (not that he'd ever admit it) and for Jason being clearly your favourite.

And from here on, you're being constantly coddled by the batfam (except for Jason since he does actually want to save u from the batfam). Bruce is always the first one to greet you every morning, and if you're still asleep when he comes, he might get away with patting your hair without you flinching away. He'd greet you, tell you he's expecting you to join him downstairs for breakfast. You simply turn your back to him, pulling the covers over your head, not bothering to reply to him, hoping to catch a break in this goddamn house.

You're only able to spare yourself for a few moments before the covers are yanked off you and you're greeted by the cheery voice of Dick. "Good morning, baby bird!" He'd yell before pulling you up and of the bed by your arms, and then to his chest, spinning you around as you try to escape his crushing grip. He's not fazed at all, mostly because he views you as a tiny little feral kitten who just needs a lot of love and snuggles. He drags you down for breakfast, everyone else already seated. You're seated between Dick and Bruce so that you can't run away, and also because Bruce makes it a habit of talking to you on various topics, usually about the book he'd leave on your bed. You would talk to him at first, but after a few weeks, you got bored with the silent treatment.

If its Dick's day with you, he spends most of the time trying to do anything and everything. No activity is off the table. Baking? Hell yes, but he's the only one who laughs after he intentionally throws flour at your face and fails at starting a food fight when you just leave. You wanna play board games? He's pulled out every board game in history and he very obviously let's you win. Movie night? He's build a fort (that he claims you two built together. You didn't, you just stood there while he built it.) And has all the classic films, pulls you close so that he can nuzzle his cheek with yours (again, not fazed by you trying to scratch his face off). Sometimes, he'd even bring you to the gymnasium (because Bruce can afford to build one in his house), where he lowkey forces you to learn about gymnastics, but at least he's a good spotter, cause you never get hurt.

If its Tim's day with you, he makes you spend the whole day just... with him. Look he's sleep deprived, he's lanky, he doesn't have a lot of energy like Dick or Damian, but what he does have is... perseverance. Tim will literally handcuff you to him if it means making sure you stay by his side. If he's getting coffee, youre getting coffee with him (he makes you a cup). If he's sleeping, you're right there, either get comfy and sleep next to him, or stay up and be bored because he's dead asleep. If he's in the batcave reviewing CCTV footage, you're there with him all day and even nights. He just wants to the remorse of dismissing you before to go, almost like he's trying to make up for all the time he wasn't there when you needed him, to now being in your business every second of the day.

If its Damian's turn with you, he's... weird. He doesn't actively make you do anything with him, it's more like having you observe him. He'd have you sit on the side and watch him train for hours on the end, rudely refusing to let you go do something else, or even train with him. He's playing with Titus? You're supposed to be watching him teach Titus tricks. He's going for a walk? No, you're the one who's walking while he's running laps past you. It's like he's trying to impress you to make up for his shitty words and behaviour.

As for Bruce, he likes to spend his time with you on a schedule. Have breakfast with him, then go on a jog around the estate, then accompany him to his home office where he works while you do college work (because obv, he shifted you to online education), and he definitely annoys you by standing over you while you study, not helping you until you ask for it but also not leaving so you feel intimidated under his stare and continue to make mistakes. Then have lunch at noon, followed by him giving you a puzzle or one of those fake crime files to solve, he likes to stimulate your brain and see how it works. This activity takes time so by the time you're done, Alfred has prepared supper. You both have dinner and then you both go to the library to read, because he wants to something less stimulating to the mind as your bedtime nears. Then he tucks you in bed, sits by your side and gives you a lot of positive affirmations (which he picked up from the parenting books in his library), before kissing the top of your head and leaving.

As for Jason, since he still insists on "saving" you, he's not allowed to see you. He can try breaking in all he want, he can't outsmart the Batman.

Or can he?

I had to type this on mobile with henna on my hands.

Yall better be grateful.

[ittsybittsybunny]

ATLA Live Action Series Review:

The Good

Aesthetically this show felt right. Sure sometimes the outfits didn't quite feel lived in, but I always felt like I was watching a fantasy world with decent effects and interesting design. Also, I really enjoyed the sets!

Bending: Yes some of the fights feel very quick, but the bending looks cool. It is certainly better than 10 benders lifting one big rock. I can honestly say the opening bending fight scene gave me so much hope for this show.

Kyoshi Warriors: I loved seeing them in live action, and I thought Suki's performance was great!

Omashu: I think the mashup of the mechanist made sense since that is an important character overall and I would hate to see him cut. However, both Jet & the secret tunnels felt sloppily thrown in.

Northern Water Tribe: I really loved the way it looked, and appreciated the two episodes we spent here. I think Yue gained more agency in this interpretation, and why shouldn't the moon spirit be a waterbender. Also, episode seven felt the most in tune with the original show's spirit.

Zuko: I think he was one of the most fleshed-out and best parts of the show! Dallas Liu really captured Zuko's spirit, and the scene between him and Aang in episode 6 was wonderful!

Soundtrack: Hearing the original soundtrack bits is always great, and when I first heard the ending music I was so excited.

Is the show perfect, no - but I wouldn't mind a season 2.

The Bad

Pacing: Turning 20 episodes into 8 was bound to lead to some cuts...but oftentimes times things felt too quick or disjointed. I think there were editing problems contributing to this for sure, but sometimes things skipped around too much without a clear purpose as to why. Also, why bring in plots from later seasons when you barely have enough time already?

Writing: This show definitely suffered from exposition dumping, though it did get better as time went on. I think the biggest example of this is actually opening in the past rather than the present. We do not get to learn along with Aang that the world has changed, instead, we get to learn that 100 years have passed....which doesn't hold the same tension or worldbuilding.

Clunky Dialogue: Along with exposition, clunky dialogue is another example of bad writing. I think sometimes I felt like the acting was kind of meh in the beginning, but then over time I began to realize it had far more to do with the lines characters were trying to deliver. The actors themselves are not bad, just cursed with awkward writing and lines that feel out of touch with the setting they're in.

Main Trio: I don't entirely know that I believe Katara, Sokka, and Aang are friends as opposed to 3 people stuck together to save the world. Aang feels a little too somber for a young kid running away from his responsibilities, Sokka is protective, but not exactly the heart of the team, and Katara is sort of just there until the last two episodes. Where is her struggle, her desire to learn so strong she steals from pirates? Also, while Gordon Cormier did a great job, Aang does zero waterbending on his own, is overly serious, and tells Katara not to fight. Where is his desperation to protect his friends? It feels like they all lost emotional depth.

Tension: Bringing Ozai, Azula, and Zhao out in the beginning immediately causes us to lose the realization there is an even bigger bad. Part of why Ozai is so terrifying is he is a primarily silent villain until the third season when we finally see the face of the "big bad evil guy" behind it all. Yes, they add to Zuko's backstory, but again, they are revealing the villains too early. Azula is the antagonist of season 2 and one of my favorite characters, so I hope they do more with her in the future. Finally, Zhao is supposed to be an example of the uncontrollable nature of fire unrestrained, instead, he comes off as vaguely threatening with the supposed true power being Azula.

Characterization: While all characters are bound to lose something in a shorter show, it still felt like certain characters were more mutilated than others. I am sure there are 100 different opinions on who, but I think the biggest victim was Katara.

Katara: Katara manages to go from a complete novice to a bending master in what feels like a matter of days. The journey feels short, and that makes the results feel largely unearned. Katara is one of the strongest personalities in the show, determined, kind, and fiery. In many ways, she is the unpredictability of water - equally dangerous as it is necessary to live. She is the child of a war who lost her mother, forced to grow up too soon, and even raised her older brother. Yes, Katara often gets stereotyped as the mom friend, but overall she feels underutilized in this show. We really don't see enough of her journey until the very end.

Iroh: Iroh was always comedic but most importantly wise. Even when Zuko is trying to give himself advice, he mimics Iroh. Instead, he seems to be used more as comedic relief without the underlying experience. He just doesn't feel right. Also, he kills Zhao instead of Zhao getting himself killed - which is less about Iroh and more about the writing than anything.

Ozai is weirdly a little too nice. Yes, he burned Zuko and pits his kids against each other, but he feels toned down in a show claiming to be more mature than the original cartoon.

Azula is perhaps more realistically worried about losing her status as the golden child, but she is also missing the cruelty she and her father share. I understand worrying about making your character cartoonishly evil, but the Fire Nation is currently a deeply nationalistic empire trying to control the world. Where is the deep-seated belief that they are better than other people, not just trying to bring balance to the world? There is a line between creating complexity and toning down the very real evil inherent in this plan.

Roku: I can only say what the fuck was that. He was barely there, and not the serious master to Aang's youthful exuberance.

The Ugly

Show, Don't Tell: The show's single biggest issue seems to be speeding through story parts by simply stating things. Instead of allowing the audience to discover, trusting that we are smart enough to understand, let's just blatantly say things like Zuko is the only reason the 41st division is alive to their faces. Even though in the context of the story Ozai literally already said that.... it's the division, the division for Zuko, Zuko's division.

Thematic Misunderstandings: I think this show makes several minor changes with major implications, such as airbenders actively fighting the firebenders, when airbenders are known for their pacifist nature and the lie of an Airbender fighting force is actively propaganda. Similarly, Aang very quickly accepts his role as the avatar and doesn't even run away in the beginning. Without this conflict between his desire to be a carefree child and the fact that the world needs him - the show loses a key aspect of Aang's character. Also, the obsession with downplaying the avatar state as something dangerous feels like a disservice to the tradition, connection, and strength of the avatar, which can be permanently destroyed as the trade-off for that kind of power. It's dangerous for the balance of the entire world, not just because it's powerful!

The Agni Kai: Zuko's fight against his father is one of the defining moments of Ozai's cruelty, not just because he is willing to fight his child, but because Zuko tried to do everything right. Zuko shows deference to his father, apologizes, and most importantly refuses to fight! The determination not to upset his father and still be grievously injured and banished is a hugely important theme for the fire nation and Zuko's life as a whole. He tries to do everything he is supposed to and only regains his father's acceptance after he "kills" Aang. Zuko's struggle between moral vs. social right and wrong in contrast to his family is hugely important to his character.

-----

TLDR: ATLA was a fantastical animated television show that was never afraid to show character development and flaws. When you turn 20 episodes into 8, you are bound to lose something. You hollowed out the middle, leaving the shell of important moments and events without ever wondering if all the times in between formed the true spirit of the show.

Rating: 6.5/10 It's perfectly fine and worth a watch. Not a disaster, but certainly falls flat of the original.

[tearful-bat]

Batfamily love language headcanons

All memebers of Batfamily x reader

word count:608

Bruce Wayne

Gift giving: Bruce is busy being batman and what not so he doesn't really have time to spend with you, also he's pretty closed off with his emotions so I can’t see him giving words of affirmation so he probably just makes up for not being with you a lot by sending and buying you lots of expensive gifts

Dick Grayson 

words of affirmation: When he's busy protecting Bludhaven he’ll send you cute messages whiles he's working

physical touch: after he gets back from it he’ll just hug you until you both eventually fall asleep 

Tim drake

gift giving: like Bruce is pretty busy so will also just send you lots of mostly useless expensive gifts 

physical touch: won’t out right ask you for physical affection but secretly craves it

Jason Todd 

quality time: just likes having you presence there while he's doing things like reading or working on case files 

physical touch: like Tim he craves physical affection but won’t ask 

Damian Wayne

quality time: just generally likes hanging around with you even if you’re just doing stuff in comfortable silence 

Gift giving: probably will occasionally buy you expensive gifts but I can also see him giving you paintings he's painted or if he goes abroad he’ll ll bring you back something 

physical touch: probably won’t ask, maybe would motion for you to do it by holding out his hand and stuff but would kind of expect you to do it and if you didn’t he’d get all pouty 

Duke Thomas 

words of affirmation: loves to tell you how much he loves you is kinda cheesy and if you do it back he gets really giddy 

acts of service: if you ask him to do anything he’ll do it no questions asked 

Cassandra Cain

Acts of service: Cassandra isn’t good at telling you how much she loves you so she shows it through he actions

Physical touch: if your walking together somewhere will hold your hand the whole time. Will come to your apartment after her patrol and after you patch her up will hold you for the whole night until you have to leave for work/ school.

Stephanie brown

Words of affirmation: like Dick she’ll send you messages during her patrol and will also compliment any outfit you wear

Quality time: just randomly shows up to your apartment to spend time with you even if it’s during her patrol.

Physical touch: if you are both together chances are she’s either hugging you or holding your hand

Barbara Gordon

Quality time: just likes spending time with you. Will invite you to stay in the clock tower with her while she’s working as oracle she finds your presence comforting and relies on you to tell her to take a break from the computer

Acts of service: she already does lots for the batfamily as oracle so if you asked her to do something she’d be on it for you

Kate Kane

Gift giving: will leave sweet little gifts at your doorstep

Harper Row

Gift giving: will make gadgets for you as gifts

Quality time : just like’s casually hanging out with you maybe playing video games together or something

Selina Kyle

Gift giving: will gift you stuff she’s stolen or if you say you like something in a shop window or something will go out and steal it for you

Words of affirmation: like Stephanie she’ll compliment all your outfits and tease you a lot

Physical touch: when she comes home from being catwoman likes to fall asleep in her bed with you

Helena Bertinelli 

acts of service: you ask her to do something for you and she’ll do it 

[alwaysshallow]

every single one of those 141 mfs are hopeless romantics lmao.. it takes a while to get used to simon but once you guys are together yall are TOGETHER. This man fixes ur things u didnt even know it was broken. you get free oil change and break checks lmao. hes so unintentionally funny with you too and its a combo of levi ackerman + gordon ramsay it makes u wheeze and gasp for air. price out here buying you flowers all the time and you are starting to run out of vases to put them in. he probably has daydreamed about yall being on a canoe/gandila, white swans swimming around you guys in the lake, ect. then he gets interrupted by shots fired rip gaz makes anniversaries for everything. first ferris wheel date, first xmas together, first camping trip together. he also make sit a mission to have a treat-yo-self day every year. you guys have matching versace slippers lol. he plays piano for youuu ;) Soap smiling like a fucking dumbass when he sees you. like the smile he got when he told Valeria you gonna pay for what you did. THATS the smile he got. kick and swings his feet when u send his little texts through the day. he sends you pictures of houses/cars that looks like they have faces on them -💸

you get it, cash anon!!!

simon is such an acts of service type of man. might not be the best with words, pda or anything, but he's gonna fix everything you'll need to fix. quality time with you and him watching some sappy series and he comments everything.

price? come on, not only giving you various gifts, but also words of affirmation. he tells you how he loves you, he tells you how he loves you, how he appreciates that you're here with him:( you almost cry when you hear all of this from him. no matter if he's off at deployment or beside you.

gaz ahhh jhfsh quality time with him planning the dates, every little thing is just thought through, you don't have to worry about anything. he's also very on physical touch (aren't they all), like?? not even in sexual way, he just needs you there, in his arms, hand around your waist. when you're not beside him in bed, he's searching for you like a lost puppy sjjhb

soap mmm. physical touch, hands on your ass, everywhere he can, he's so gross with it sometimes, but he can't really help himself when he sees you. words of affirmation is his big love language too, like he's just feral for the whole idea of you telling him things like i love you or i miss you so much, i wish you were here. if he would, he'd hop on the next plane and spend an eternity with you lol

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Phone Fun

Pairing  ::  Tangerine x  fem!Reader

Warnings  ::     18+ Content, SMUT/NSFW, Phone sex, Masturbation(F&M)

Word Count  ::  1310

Summary  ::  Tangerine’s been gone for a while and you each miss each other a lot

A/N  ::  I KNOW I’VE BEEN GONE FOR LIKE EVER BUT we should have all accepted by now this is the type of person I am. I am sorry. Please forgive me for my laziness.

It’s not funny like at all how quickly I became a slut for this man. I even bought the book Bullet Train so I could get more of him. I also might make a small/mini series for him bc I think it’s hilarious if he dated someone who had no clue he was an assassin.

Tangerine is a professional. He does his job by the book(at least to the best of his abilities, given his line of work), quick and easy. He isn't the type to make mistakes or take risks. With that being said, he does everything he can to keep his work life and private life completely separate, even if that means lying to the person he loves most.

You hadn’t the slightest clue as to who he actually was. Everything you knew about him was an intricately fabricated lie of a life he created for you to believe. For starters, he told you his name was Gordon, and Lemon’s was Thomas. Lemon was happy he used names from Thomas The Tank Engine but would’ve preferred they had gone by Donald and Douglas since they’re brothers. Then, he told you he and Lemon both worked for a private security service firm that worked high-profile jobs. With this lie, you never questioned when he traveled to foreign countries for various periods of time. However, this also led you to presume he worked somewhat normal hours.

On more than one occasion, you called Tangerine while he was in the middle of work, and being the worry-wort he was when it came to you, he immediately answered after scrambling to find a decently quiet place to talk to you. Luckily, the calls were never because anything had happened to you or you somehow magically learned about the double-life he led and now wished to cut all ties with the contract-killer. Typically it was because you simply missed him and walked to talk to him for a bit, making sure he was okay.

Lemon always thought a simple text would have sufficed rather than a call. When he told Tangerine to tell you so, he received a menacing glare in response. After that, he completely threw out the thought of convincing him to tell you the truth.

Today’s call was not normal though.

“God am I glad you called.” Tangerine sat down on his bed, glad Lemon was out grabbing food so he could have a private chat.

You were able to hear clearly through the phone his exhaustion. “Was it rough today?”

He let out a deep sigh, earning a small chuckle. “You have no idea love.”

“You’ll be home soon, right?”

“Yeah, in two days.”

“I miss you so much.”

He was gone for nearly a month, jobs booked back-to-back. Before this, the longest he had been away was barely under two weeks.

Tangerine was looking forward to engulfing you in a large hug and pressing his lips against you in a passionate kiss. You never admitted it, but you became quite needy whenever he was gone. He never had any complaints since the sex when he got when he came back was always amazing. He couldn’t wait to toss you onto the bed, though he doubted if you two would make it to your room before you started your fun.

“This is gonna sound silly but…” You were hesitating. He was sure you had that shy smile you always put on when you were embarrassed right now. “I’m only wearing one of your button-ups right now.”

Only. That word rang in his head like a bell. “Oh really?”

Even though you knew he was returning soon, you were still incredibly lonely. Without thinking you grabbed one of his shirts and immediately a small smile formed due to the familiar scent that lingered. He didn’t use harsh over-bearing cologne that had multiple ingredients mixed creating a headache of a smell. Rather, he used a simple citrus herbal mix. Hints of orange and lemon hid under a woodsy scent with a slight spice.

Then, a slightly devious plan formed in your head, leading you to this very moment.

“Mhm.” You bit your lip, trying not to smile even though he couldn’t see you.

“And what are you doing right now?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“I think you’re waiting in bed for me to come fuck you.” The sudden drop in tone shot a tingle down your spine, the warmth between your thighs growing.

“Ding-ding.”

“Have you started touching yourself?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wanted to tease you.”

A dark laugh left his lips. “You know I don’t enjoy being teased love.”

“Exactly.”

Whenever you made the reckless decision to tease him, he would often end up turning the tables and turned you into a moaning mess. Sometimes you did it on accident, other times it was on purpose because you loved how worked up he’d get.

You let out a soft hum, starting by massaging your breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ll go nice and slow so you know everything I’m doing.” You pinched your nipples, rolling them between your fingers.

You always knew how to turn him on. It was truly a gift you had. Hearing your small satisfied hums, he began to grow hard and found himself palming the bulge in his pants that was forming.

One of your hands traveled downwards to start rubbing your wet folds. “Hnng...” You imagined he was here with you, taking care of your needs. You rubbed a small circle around your clit, doing your best to enjoy the moment instead of speedily making yourself cum.

Hearing a small zip and fabric moving, you knew he was doing the same. He began stroking his length, remembering the tightness of your cunt.

You were growing wetter by the second, so when you moved your other hand down to insert a finger a soft sucking sound of the mess you were creating was now heard. This caused his dick to twitch, eager to be wrapped around you.

You stopped rubbing your clit momentarily to stick in a second finger and begin pumping, hoping the wet sounds would excite him. Precum began beading at the top of his cock so he used it to help lubricate his shaft. Going at a pace that matched yours, his grip was tight but paled in comparison to your cunt.

Both of you could hear the other’s desperation in your moans. You each wanted to touch one another so badly but had to suffice with the situation at hand.

Deciding you needed more friction, you pulled your fingers out and sat up.

“What are you doing now, love?”

Shamelessly you replied, “I’m going to ride your pillow darling.”

“Fuck.” His balls tightened.

As your hips began rocking back and forth on his pillow, he began to thrust up in the air, each of you pretending you were riding him now.

Growing closer, you started rubbing your clit again, your fingers moving much harsher than before. He was also getting ready to cum, so he quickly threw off his vest and unbuttoned his shirt so that way they wouldn’t get ruined.

Your paced hips grew sloppy and your panting much louder. His groaning was becoming deeper, pumping and thrusting as if he was fucking.

“Ahh!”

The heat building in your stomach was begging to be released. You stopped moving, straddling the pillow with your hand between your legs. Your hand moved quickly across your clit until the tingling sensation finally broke. Your entire body tensed up, continuing to press firmly against the sensitive nub while your pussy clenched to release.

With his own muscles tense, hearing your cry of pleasure his cock twitched again, finally ready to cum. His tight sack finally contracted, releasing hot shots of cum that landed right on his abdomen. He released his hold, his cock continuing to jump as his entire load came out.

The only thing that could be heard now were the small breaths you were each taking to compose yourselves.

“Well this was fun,” You said while flopping onto your back.

“Fun, but not as good as the real deal.”

“Two more days until then.”

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

From Batman: Wayne Family Adventures #67-69 on Webtoon; Artist Inker Starbite

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are meeting the whole family for the first time. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, knife injury

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Part Four: Dinner and a Show

Anxiously, I took the napkin from the table and began twisting it vigorously. I felt Alfred leave his seat as he rose to meet his family. I swallowed hard, not wanting to look at all of the people that were entering the room. They just seemed to keep coming. How many people were in Bruce’s family? 

Before I had time to register it a hand was outstretched near me. It nearly made me jump. The stranger cleared his throat and smiled, “Hello, I am Dick Grayson. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

In an ungraceful motion, I put the napkin on the table and stood up to greet him properly. I took his hand in mine and firmly shook it. His hands were large, calloused, and a little clammy. It was almost like he was a little nervous to meet me. But that couldn’t be right. 

“Nice to meet you, Dick Grayson. I am y/f/n y/l/n,” I said, trying to make eye contact with him. Dick was an extremely handsome man. He was almost achingly pretty. With his soft blue eyes, dimples, and dark curly hair, he could definitely charm the pants off anyone if he really wanted to. 

His smile grew when our hands met. He just stood there for a moment looking at me, and then he pivoted to the side. He introduced Tim Drake and Duke Thomas. Tim was cordial and did the customary new person greeting, Duke was somewhat rambling. 

“Your powers are truly something to be admired, thank you so much for everything you have done,” Duke said as he excitedly shook my hand. 

I smiled at him and rubbed the back of my neck, “It’s really not that big of a deal but thank you, Duke. You guys are the ones that make the real change.”

Duke opened his mouth as if he were going to disagree, but a red-headed woman with glasses wheeled up to us and joined the conversation. 

“You boys are hogging her. Hello, I am Barbara Gordon. This is Cass, she doesn’t say much, and this is Stephanie, she says too much.”

I greeted them both, slightly overwhelmed by the amount of new people. I was trying my best to act ‘normal’ and be as social and charming as I could be. A younger boy who strongly resembled Bruce stood far away from me. He surveyed the room, taking in the reactions. He seemed so serious for his age. I wasn’t sure if I should make the introduction or not. 

“Where is Jason?” Bruce asked the room. 

“He is running late,” Dick said, “he said he had some ‘other shit that needed to get done first.’”

Faintly, I saw Bruce tense, but just as quickly as it came, it went. “Alright, everyone leave y/n alone and go sit down.”

On my right, there was Alfred, who felt my anchor to the world. On my left, there was Dick Grayson, who felt like he was trying to get me to smile and laugh every chance he got. 

The table soon became loud with conversations that finally were not about me. However, I felt eyes on me the whole night. Damian Wayne was across from me, staring at me the whole time like I was an intruder. 

“So, you are a healer,” Damian said, skeptically. 

I swallowed a bite of food and nodded, “I am.”

“What can you heal?” Damian asked, twirling his dinner knife in the air. 

“Flesh wounds, broken bones, blood loss, head injury, organ injury,” I trailed off not knowing what else to say. 

“How does it work?” His eyes narrowed at me.

“I’m not really sure. It’s as natural for me as breathing or blinking.”

“What are your–” Damien asked but then Bruce interrupted. 

“Son, you do not need to vet our guest. Let her enjoy herself.” 

Damien was suspicious of me and curious I wanted the boy to feel comfortable, “It’s okay, Bruce. It’s natural to be curious about it. What other questions do you have for me, Damien?’

“What are your limits?” Damien asked.

I felt the table go quiet. They all were curious and wanted to know my weaknesses. I instinctually did not want to answer, but I knew that if I wanted to be accepted I would need to be vulnerable and honest. 

“I cannot heal a majority of terminal illnesses. Spinal injuries can go one way or the other it depends on the severity. I cannot heal tumors. And…. and healing is draining. If I am not smart about it, I can make myself sick.”

“Sick how?” Dick asked, leaning in. 

“Well, it’s hard to explain. When I healed Bruce, it was after my shift at the hospital, I barely ate that day or slept the night before. So, when I put all that energy into healing him, it was exhausting. I nearly passed out on the ground next to him. When I got home, I slept for 16 hours straight. That is a more mild case though, it can get more… severe.”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Bruce mumbled. 

The boyish charm on Dick’s face vanished, “How severe can it get?”

“Oh, you know tremors, fever, bloody noses, vomiting, seizures. It can get bad. I’ve learned my limits the hard way, but I’ve learned them. Growing up my limits were more extreme. I couldn’t heal a paper cut without getting a headache. Small stuff like cuts and bruises doesn’t bother me at all now though. It barely scratches the surface of my limits.”

“Prove it,” Damien said. 

“Excuse me?” I asked, annoyance filling my tone. I can handle his constant questions, but being told to prove it vexed me. 

“You say you can heal cuts and bruises without it ‘scratching the surface.’ Prove it. Prove you’re not a charlatan witch.” It was a movement for a boy too quick for his age he took his dinner knife and sliced along his own arm.

“Damien!” Barbara yelled. Dick leaped across the table but it was too late, blood was already pooling. Bruce and Alfred cursed. 

“Why did we allow Damien to have a knife at dinner?” Tim asked over the yelling. 

“Tim, do you really think we gave him that knife?” Bruce asked, incredulously. 

Anger surged as I slowly made my way around the table full of people yelling until I was in front of Damien. I glared at him as I rested my hands just above his cut. The room became silent as I healed him. The cut closed, and I replenished the blood that he lost. 

Damien looked at me, dumbfounded. The whole room did expect for Bruce and Alfred.

“It’s one thing to hear about it, but to see it… you really are a miracle.” Duke said the words and I flinched from them. 

I looked at Damien and let my anger show through. “I will not heal you if you pull something like this again. I don’t care how much your father pays me. I am not a monkey that will dance for you on a whim. Do not harm yourself to make a point or prove something again.” Damien angrily ripped his arm away from me. I didn’t care. It was unacceptable. He should never hurt himself intentionally like that just because he knows I can heal him. I turned and faced the room, “It was lovely meeting all of you. I hope you all have a nice evening, good night.”

And with that, I turned around and left for the night. Maybe I shouldn’t be as mad as I am right now, but I know I need a moment to myself. I heard light footsteps beside me as someone lightly jogged to catch up.

“I’m sorry about Damien we are still house-training him,” Dick said, trying his best to lighten the mood. 

I didn’t crack a smile, “It’s okay, Dick, really.”

“He can be intense sometimes, well we all can,” ever so lightly he reached up and grabbed my elbow, turning me so I faced him. “We are a lot. We are loud. We are sarcastic. We all think we are right all the time. We fight. We can be obsessive, protective, and socially inept. You will constantly have to patch us up–”

I shook my head, my eyebrows pinched in confusion, “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“You need to know exactly what you are getting into. It won’t be fair to you if you don’t know,” he said, absent-mindedly his thumb stroking the inner part of my elbow. He probably didn’t even know he was doing it, but I was acutely aware of it.

I just nodded, “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate the honesty. Besides, if I can handle my family, I can handle yours. Good night, Dick.”

“Of course, good night, y/n.” It looked like he wanted to say more, but I didn’t have the energy for it. 

I walked toward my room, suddenly so exhausted. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms, and accidentally ran into a wall. 

“Um excuse you,” a deep voice said.

Taglist: I am just starting a taglist; if you would like to be included please comment :)

@soundsfunbutno

Also please vote below for what you would prefer

Thank you guys

[cuddl3s4shur1]

•𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒•

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Earth 42 Miles x F! Y/N

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏: 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎:Miles owns a business to help with his job as The prowler, he gets a new assistant thats trying to end his marriage .

𝐀/𝐍: I was scrolling on tiktok and let’s just say , I got some inspiration. Lowkey got bored towards the end also it dosent have the much spanish which is ny fault

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:Cussing,Spanish might be a little choppy ( blame google) IM TRYING YALL IM TRYING For the story HE US AGED UP

Inspired by : Obsessed-Movie and Some random TikTok I saw .

You were at home relaxing ,I mean you couldn’t do that much sense you were 6 months pregnant.

You are waiting fir your husband to come home . You haven’t seen him all day since he goes to work so early.

You hear keys jingle at the door , who could it be…. It’s your husband. He smiles as he sees you getting up to greet him. “. ¿Cómo está mi mamá bebé descalza? (Hows my barefoot baby mama going )“ he jokes to you . “Im doing well baby daddy “ you joke back to him.

“ Cómo te fué en el trabajo ( how did it go at work)“ you ask him as you penguin walk to the couch.

“it was good but rico is on a family vaction, así que tengo que contratar temporalmente a alguien( So I have to hire someone temporarily)“ he tells you

“ok well you know , contratar a alguien que sepa hacer el trabajo (hire someone who knows how to do the job)“ you tell him.

he nods and heads to the bedroom as he stsrt to undo his tye.

You continue to relax , the baby starts to kick your stomach “baby come get your daughter “ you laugh .

“ Qué está haciendo ella ahora(What is she doing now)“ he asks , he walks out of the bedroom in sweatpants and a tank top and sits on the couch next to you .

“Digamos que le gusta patear (Let’s just say she likes to kick)” you say . “Sound like she might like track , cross country or soccer “ he says “I’m thinking soccer, she kicks really hard “ Yall both laugh.

“I need a break from work, you know how i said we are temoraroy hiring people“ he asks you . “Yes babe“ he tells you . “Hiring today was horrible I don’t think people was reading the qualifications for this job like at all “ he tells you , you start to chuckle.

“What happened,” you ask him .

“So this guy comes in , he sits down so I’m like “do you have any experience with research and finance “

So he like “to be honest no, mi mamá dijo que están contratando y no me quiere en su sótano (my mom mama said they hiring and she tired of me living in her basement )“

so I’m like dang ok . “Do you have any experience with cleaning because we have a janitor job” I tell him

“yeah my moms she made me clean and wash dishes , she made me wash the floor and the walls“ he told me

“Ok , I’ll contact you in two weeks to let you know about the  janitor job” I told him

“Yo man thanks “ he said then he walked out .

“Baby , that man was so honest” he says he also made me want to laugh.

“That was definitely something“ you tell him

“I'm going to start with our dinner, tonight we are having chicken with rice “ he says and smiles . “Yum” you tell him

“Voy a ser chef’to(I’m going to be a chef) “ he laughs

“Mhm, tengo mi propio Gordon Ramsey( Mhm , I got my own Gordon Ramsey )you joke

“No no, Soy mejor que eso(I’m better than that)he says .

“oh is that so ,Yo seré el juez de eso(I’ll be the judge of that) “ you tell him.

“Cariño, recibí una llamada del tío( Baby I got a call from uncle), he probably talking about business “ he says . “That’s fine you can answer “ you tell him.

Miles starts talking with his uncle , basically talking about business and other stuff . You usually work him , since you guys are duo “Mrs. Prowler and Mr. Prowler. From then till now , you have experienced all of that job has for offer and you don’t have want that while your pregnant.

He hangs up the phone and really starts cooking . “Baby I got an assistant “ he smiles . “Uncle Aaron chose her and the assistant starts tomorrow “ he says . “That’s good that means you don’t have to worry about hiring “ you say

“Yup and that’s what I like ,Estoy de vuelta en el negocio, cariño(Im back in business baby). “ he says you smile.

“Alright business man how’s the cooking going “ you ask him .

“My bad , ill start now ,No puedo matarte de hambre (I can't starve you) “ he jokes

“At least you know “ you told him.

He cooked and you guys would eat dinner together .

But little did miles know that tommorow he got an assitant from ....

Hell

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @not-aya @html-nae @khamanix

[weebsinstash]

Ya know, I've made posts about the yandere Batfamily before, and I've been thinking lately about one person in particular, and I think I've decided that Alfred is probably the most dangerous and formidable person in that entire house and have been brainstorming what a formidable platonic yandere guardian sorta figure he would be

For one, he's the man that canonically kept THE Batman from going over the edge, basically THE sole reason Bruce Wayne grew into the man he is. Literally, in alternate universes where Bruce never had Alfred, he literally 9 times out of 10 becomes a murdering sociopath. Alfred doesn't just have intelligence, he has EMOTIONAL intelligence

We're talking about the tenured elderly man who is former MI6 and doesn't give a fuck about murder, has killed, and will kill again. Bruce finds someone attacking you, he'll beat them up and cart them off to jail to be arrested and rehabilitated. Alfred will pull a pistol on a robber and shoot him dead before he allows you to get even a single scratch on you, just puts the guy down, "oh dear, I suppose I'll be late making dinner tonight, it seems I'll have to give testimony to Mr Gordon again"

I've seen fics where the sidekicks kidnap Reader or disable them for Bruce's sake, but don't you think Bruce himself would cross that line for Alfred? This man cooks, cleans, does everything for him, is practically a second father and his greatest friend, really kind of RAISED HIM. I just picture Alfred getting attached to Reader like you're practically his grandchild and then you return to your normal life, move out after staying them for a period of time or whatever, and Bruce can tell Alfred is... out of sorts, a little sad frown on his old withered face as he absent-mindedly sweeps the same corner of the same room for an hour, sighing, thinking about how he wanted to teach you all sorts of things, but, you're just gone now. Siiiiiiiiigh. And Bruce can't stand seeing Alfred like, actually depressed, even making mistakes he doesn't usually make, dropping things, lacking his usual playful sarcastic wit, just kind of a shell of his former self. You don't think you'd be getting an extra super special Uber ride in the Batmobile from the Dark Knight himself after that?

But I also think Alfred would be capable of really putting his foot down. He once told a disrespectful Damian he should be thankful Alfred wasn't his father in a very "because I'd actually discipline you" coded sort of way, and, say Reader grew up without a dad, or any parents and maybe has some traumas and potential behavioral issues from that. I could see Alfred being the kindest, sweetest, most patient grandpa, teaching you how to bake, keeping you company in the library, teaching you all kinds of things, and then the second you do things like start getting drunk, acting out, THROWING things, then he's putting his foot down, "now you listen HERE! Your behavior is absolutely unacceptable and you will not be allowed to degrade yourself within the walls of this home!" and manages to simultaneously scold you without putting you down, leaving you in ashamed embarrassed tears over your behavior that you're standing there crying, and he pulls you to take a seat in a nice chair and starts combing your hair and telling you he just wants best for you while you're bawling for his forgiveness, and he tells you he's already forgiven you and that he can run you a nice bath before bed

I can see a captive Reader scenario where you manage to break out of the house while everyone else is gone and you think, oh, you're home free! Batman and everyone else is busy! Lost in your own hubris as if Alfred doesn't have perfect knowledge of everything in the Batcave including the equipment and vehicles. You're in an alley cornered by a bunch of drunks who just want to beat the shit out of someone and suddenly, is that Batman? Wait, the costume is different, and the height, and, the body shape, and, and, and it doesn't even matter because Alfred can still lay all of them flat, blood on his knuckles as he wearily regards you, "you're not going to make a tired old man have to carry you to the car, are you?" and after what you just saw, you know better than to put up resistance

But like I can't get over the idea of, Reader staying at the Wayne residence for a limited period of time, you're injured and Bruce is offering you safe harbor, you're being targeted by a specific criminal group and need protection until the thugs are caught, something along those lines, and, one day, when everything is better, you just. Leave unexpectedly. They had already offered you a permanant place in the house but you still seem to be falling into a depression until one day you're straight up gone, only leaving a note that Alfred is the one to find, only 3 word, "Thank you. Sorry." and hr suddenly??? Can't think straight??? You're gone??? Why??? Why didn't you tell them?? Are you hurt?? Did they do something wrong??? How is he supposed to know if you're sad or if you're hungry or if you're in DANGER if he doesn't know where you are and what you're doing at all possible hours?

Just visualizing the idea of Bruce coming home one day and you're suddenly in the house again and you're seeming very much distressed but Alfred is looking fit as a fiddle again and it is very extremely incredibly obvious to Bruce that Alfred straight up brought you back against your will. But. He doesn't care because he agrees with Alfred that OBVIOUSLY since you're a member of the FAMILY NOW that OF COURSE you have to stay in the house

Can you imagine yandere Alfred but Bruce and everyone else is just, totally normal and just hardcore mega coping with Alfred's sudden change in behavior and occasional questionable actions. One day Alfred is dusting and without turning around, "Master Bruce, would you care to fetch my granddaughter for me while i finish this room?" and Bruce is just like "granddaughter????" And Alfred looks to him like he just said something BEYOND stupid, "Yes, my granddaughter, about ye high, awfully broody much like yourself, currently housed in the spare second floor bedroom at the end of the hall on the right? You act as if she didnt help bake that casserole you and the boys absolutely devoured last night"

Nightwing going down into the Batcave for like actual mission stuff and Alfred is already using the Batcomputer to monitor all your online internet use. What's that, some young man is trying to slide into your DMs? O-oh no, there was, uh, suddenly a glitch and he received a threatening message with no traceable source that told him to stay the bloody hell away from you! Whoops!

You're just his captive little grandchild who he helps teach recipes to and teaching you anything you're curious about. You make an offhanded comment one day that you would've loved to learn to play piano "but I'm too old now/it's too late now/I probably wouldn't be any good at it" and later on, after Alfred has brought you back after trying to live alone again (you being drugged if need be), and when you wake up he's all smiles, telling you about all the new structure he's about to introduce to your life, and, of course, you have to pick a day of the week for your new (now mandatory) piano lessons :) on Mondays you'll go for walks and have tea in the garden, Tuesdays you'll read in the library, on Wednesdays you'll learn piano, on Thursday he'll teach you a new recipe every week, Friday--- this old man is gonna force you to be productive and happy is all I'm gonna say

[spoonsock]

3 AM shenanigans

Gwen Stacy x reader

Synopsis: It’s late, you’re hungry and your girlfriend can’t cook to save her life.

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff and typical teenage fucking around late at night.

Not proofread. I’ve come to realization I never proofread anything I write. Oh well.

Take this short little thing instead of a part 2 for show me love, I’ll write it soon I swear 🙏 also I’m glad that the whole community agrees that Gwen can’t cook lmaoo.

“I’m hungry”

“And how’s that my problem?”

You push the absolute bully of your girlfriend. “Ouch”, she says monotonously, eyes still closed, and you glare at her, knowing darn well she can feel you doing so.

You’re sleeping over at her place, her dad’s not home and you’re both laying on her bed, trying to fall asleep but the grumbling of your stomach is interrupting you. You ate dinner but it has been a couple of hours since then and. You. Are. Hungry.

You turn on your back to glance at the clock on Gwen’s nightstand. 03:05 it says. Whatever, you think, it’s never to late to eat.

“Gwendyy, I’m staaaarvingggg”, you pout at her.

“No” is the only answer you get. “…Fine, I didn’t want to resort to this, but I guess you leave me no choice”, you say before getting up from the bed and grabbing both of Gwen’s arms and dragging her upwards. The attempt of getting her to get up doesn’t work and she falls from the bed, making a loud noise as she lands. Before you can process it, she grabs your knees and pulls, letting you to fall flat on your butt with a thump.

You pretend to be hurt and she actually gets worried for a second and you use that moment to grab her hands and pin them above her head, getting on top of her as she’s laying on the floor, not letting her move, and looking her dead in the eye before saying how you need to eat or you’ll die and it’ll be her fault *she know’s you’re exaggerating ofc*.

Unfortunately for you, your girlfriend is Spider-woman. Idk why would you even think you could overpower her, she literally has super strength. So she easily turns you over and pins your arms above your head before whisper yelling at you how there will be no food making at 3 in the morning. The two of you toss and turn on the floor for some time, like a pair of fucking toddlers, giggling and wiping the dust off of the floor with your pajamas.

Eventually Gwen gives in and you happily lead her to her own kitchen. You’ve never cooked in her kitchen though, meaning you don’t know where anything is, so your girlfriend tells you to sit still while she makes you something to eat.

“You know what, if I really have to cook for you in the middle of the night, Imma cook you the meal of your life”, she says and excitement builds up inside of you, wondering what kind of a Gordon Ramsay bullshit is she about to pull. You watch her patiently as she brings ingredients out of her fridge and pulls out a bowl and cutlery from different drawers. She heats up some oil in a big ass pot and then adds a thing after a thing in it.

After a while, you smell something burning and you ask her if everything’s okay, but she assures you it’s all doing great and you decide to ask no more, even though you definitely heard the panic in her voice.

Aside from that, she looks super confident in whatever she’s doing so you don’t even ask her what is she making for you, and honestly, you don’t even wanna know. You trust her and you’re hungry and you’ll eat whatever she makes for you.

Or at least that’s what you thought, until she put the big ass bowl™️ in front of you. And in it was a suspicious liquid mixture of pasta, different types of something green, carrots (hopefully?), corn, jelly????, mushrooms, bacon, and other suspicious stuff. Gwen hands you a spoon and smiles brightly, all the signs of tiredness disappeared, as if she wasn’t desperately trying to fall asleep cuddled up next to you, like, half of an hour ago.

“Bon appétit, babe”, she says, putting on a bad french accent.

Your girlfriend sits next to you, waiting for you to try the meal (?) she has prepared for you, and you give her a hesitant smile before dipping the spoon in the bowl and then putting it in your mouth.

You couldn’t even get yourself to swallow whatever you just put in your mouth because the feeling of it on your tongue made you immediately start to choke. It was sweet, salty, bitter, spicy and cold all at the same time. You run to get yourself some water, trying to lose the taste of it from your mouth while Gwen watches you confused. As you are drinking your water, she decides to try the meal herself and has the same reaction as you do.

So you just stand there silently, in her kitchen, staring at the big ass bowl™️ on the table. It seems as if something will jump out of it and attack you. The liquid reminds you of a swamp and you don’t feel hungry at all anymore.

Gwen sighs deeply. The two of you decide to go back to bed and try not to have nightmares of the meal your dear spider girlfriend has prepared for you. At least you know she put effort in trying to make you happy, which warms your heart and you pull her closer to you to press a kiss on her forehead.

When you wake up, you see her dad in the kitchen, sitting down and staring at the bowl intently and quietly, as if contemplating his whole existence because of the bowl. “You tried it, didn’t you?”, you ask and he slowly nods his head, obviously still in shock from the taste of the meal.

That was the day you decided you’ll be the one to prepare food from now on.

Guys she was trying to make minestrone (soup) bc she saw a recipe for it somewhere and she really wanted to try making it. She’s so precious 🥹💞

Yes I put trademark ™️ on the big ass bowl.

[bitchesgetriches]

Bitches I need some advice.

I'm fat, okay? I'm not ashamed about it. It just... Is. I'm fat.

Being fat is also fucking me up. It's causing me sleep problems, it's fucking my joints, I can't walk as far as I used to, I haven't run in years.

I want to lose weight. Not for anyone else. For me. I want to be fit again.

I'm surrounded by people telling me I'm "not fat" and need to "love myself like I am". I'm 210lb and 5'3". Ya girl is fat. And I'm okay with that it's not a bad word. I love myself. But I also love the things I used to be able to do when I was fitter. It's just really fucking hard.

I've got zero support left and right. And I don't know what to do. I know this isn't your area of expertise, but you're such great internet mamas that maybe you can help.

My darling child, we are SO humbled that you came to us with this. And while this isn't an area of our OFFICIAL expertise... weight and athleticism is something that I, Piggy, personally think a lot about! So let me see if I can offer some support to you, my beloved fat child.

By way of background: I have never been fat. Heavier than I want currently, but not fat. So I don't completely understand what you're going through. I have always been an athlete of one sort or the other. But more than that, I have always had the privilege of being relatively skinny without trying. At peak fitness I was running and rock climbing and doing all the stretchy and weight-trainy stuff. I was 5'5" and 130 lbs of jacked Bitch.

I am also a proud Italian American woman, which means that after 30 genetics decreed that I start putting on weight and rounding out and coming into my full Zia-ness. I'm currently 155 lbs. and running/climbing/stretching/jumping about/weight training is getting harder and harder. And that's frustrating to me.

Fat is not a bad word, merely a descriptor. So I'mma use it just as you have! I'm proud that you are prioritizing your health and ability to do what you love over losing weight for the sake of just being smaller. Because let's be clear: weight and health do not necessarily go hand in hand. If your goal is to improve your sleep quality, energy levels, and joint pain, then you should focus on activities that will work directly on those issues. Maybe that'll lead to weight loss--maybe not!

A lot of the medical establishment is cruel to fat people, so I'd be cautious about approaching this with your doctor. But you SHOULD get medical guidance before embarking on any kind of physical change. If your doctor says "Well, just lose weight through diet and exercise!" then you might want to look for a new doctor. If they instead offer practical solutions for incremental improvement, then great.

One of my favorite athletes is The Mirnavator. She's a fat marathon runner and offers a lot of information on how to start walking more and running as a fat person. I think she'll be a good role model for you as she focuses a lot on energy and joint health.

Also, you should check out Aubrey Gordon's blog Your Fat Friend and her podcast with Michael Hobbes, Maintenance Phase. She's also got some great books out! She's a fat expert on weight loss and diet culture. And her insights into healthy nutrition and body image are amazing. Her data-based approach will help you avoid the extreme dieting and weight loss trends that can hurt your health. Plus she's funny as fuck.

Lastly I will just say that mental health is tied to physical health. You're bummed about not doing the things you use to be able to do... and that probably makes it a lot harder to change! Acknowledge any depression or anxiety you feel about being fat and give yourself compassion. Start small and do what feels good.

Now here are two VERY old articles I wrote when I knew less about fatness. I think they still have a little bit to offer, though:

Why You Probably Don't Need That Gym Membership

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money 

Any fat members of Bitch Nation who want to weigh in? Uh... pun not intended.

[beingsuneone]

Part Two!!

Memories & Delusions PART TWO!!

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

SYNOPSIS: You know Jason is alive know, you aren’t sure how just yet and you aren’t how exactly you’re going to keep his cover and also still see him regularly. There’s still too many complications to deal with.

FANDOM: DC

PAIRING(S): Jason Todd x fem!reader

RATING: G

MENTIONED: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Joker, Ra’s Al Ghul

GENRE/AU: Uhhh a little bit of fluff I guess. It’s pretty subtle on the romance, mostly plot following I guess. Nothing overly angsty. Mentions of being committed to Arkham (just a joking conversation) and Jason is trying it get over the Lazarus pit.

WORD COUNT: 4.4K

WARNINGS: swearing, slightly graphic descriptions of Jason’s murder from him. Not proof read

A/N: jjjajsjakkskskshdhshjsjsis brain

DEDICATIONS: my dumb hyperfixating brain for coming up with this concept at least three years ago. And putting it into words only recently.

CREDITS:

“Why are you being so dodgy lately?” Dick asks skeptically, eyeing you up.

You shrug, trying to play it cool. Jason doesn’t want them to know yet so they won’t. “What do you mean?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Last week you were losing your mind and now you’re just… fine.”

You take a deep breath in and sigh. “I guess I realized that I was being delusional. I was just missing Jason.” Dick is about to say something else but you wave him off. “I have to go to meet my friend, so I’m heading out.”

Your ‘friend’ was Jason.

You stop to look at yourself in the mirror by the door, toying with your hair and smoothing out wrinkles on your clothes.

Somewhere behind you, Dick mutters: “See, Bruce, she’s being Dodgy.” And Bruce hums in agreement.

You’re apparently not as convincing as you’d like to be.

…..

“How do you plan on breaking the new to Bruce?” You ask, fidgeting with your fingers while he goes through some stuff on his computer. He shrugs in response. You continue. “Or is it that you don’t want to tell him at all?”

Jason's eye twitches subtly, something that you’re surprised you catch. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Y/n.” He pauses, chuckling dryly. “It’s not like he’d care much to know.”

You recoil. Is that really how Jason thinks Bruce feels about him?

All you can recall is Bruce kneeling in front of his grave, sobbing like you’d never seen an adult sob; or the way he would walk into Jason’s room and stand in the doorway with a forlorn look mocking his features.

You remember the way he’d stare for several minutes before sighing deeply and walking away; he’d usually proceed to lock himself in the batcave and would snap when anyone disturbed him.

“Jason…” you say reluctantly. “You don’t think that Bruce would care if you were alive?” Jason remains silent, so you continue, missing the way his fists clench. “Bruce was… heartbroken for months after your death— we all were.”

Jason stands abruptly. “And yet, none of you were willing to kill the man who brutally murdered me!” He snaps, his voice raised. You flinch a little but try to retain composure; bite your tongue when you have the urge to remind him about your goals when he first died. He continues with a strange expression on his face. “Do you know what it was like to feel a crowbar splitting my skull open while I was still alive?”

The thought makes you sick. Makes you so utterly devastated for what he’s been through. “No, Jason, I—”

He cuts you off by holding his hand up. “If Bruce was ever going to kill someone, it should’ve been Joker; and if he’d really loved me so much it should have been for me.” His tone is much calmer but there is still a chilling effect in his voice that makes your spine straighten.

The look behind his eyes is flurried with an internal battle you can almost see. “Jason, I shouldn’t have—”

“Just go.” He says, finally sitting back. He doesn’t bother looking up at you.

“What?” You stammer, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Just get out, Y/n.” He snaps once more and that’s all it takes for you to turn on your heels and walk out the door.

…..

You’d been moody and upset for the past three days— you knew you were. You were upset at Jason, upset that he had so much sway or your emotion, and even upset at yourself for bringing something up that obviously triggered him in some way.

Jason was complexities locked inside other complexities, and you were beginning to learn that; what was once simple and easy with him, was now difficult and anxiety-inducing:

You weren’t sure where you laid in his eyes now.

Were you still the same teenage girl in his mind, or, were you the grown version of the girl he liked that had betrayed him.

Did he see you the same way he saw Bruce and Dick? Or even Tim? Was he just holding on the bond you used to have despite his bitter feelings for you now?

And, what made him this way? You know he must have gone through a devastating trauma, but, how far did that really go?

What were the details that Bruce never told you, and just how gruesome were they for him to lock the knowledge away and not let anyone else know the details.

He told everyone that Jason had died, and he had died by the Joker’s hands; when you or Dick had pressed for more information, Bruce had simply told you it was ‘Brutal’ and ‘Something you should never have to know’

But Jason's little outburst must’ve only told the smallest of details about his horrible, horrible death. If that was just the beginning, you couldn’t even imagine the depths of Joker’s cruelty.

You’re brain won’t stop trying though, even as you sit at the kitchen’s bar with a soggy bowl of cereal. You’ve been sitting there for an hour, pushing the stuff around in the bowl but you haven’t actually taken a bite.

“I think we need to send you to Arkham.” Tim says from the other side of the island, breaking you from your Jason-induced trance. You know he’s joking, but you’re pretty Bruce is genuinely considering committing you for your behavior these past few weeks.

You’re more hot and cold than faulty thermostat. Hysterical, and then Happy, and then violently depressed and introspective.

“I do not need to be locked up with a bunch of criminals, Tim. Rehabilitation is clearly not actually happening at Arkham.” You say back, appreciating his giving you something to banter about.

He’s the only one that didn’t know Jason, and that makes him refreshing to be around.

“They aren’t stupid, Y/n.” Tim says, completely unrelated to your response. “Bruce knows you’re still losing it over Jason, you can act fine all you want but Red Hood clearly got into your head.”

You shrug. “If anyone knew him as intimately as I do— uh, did, they’d lose their mind too.” Your eyes drop to the bowl in front of you and scrunch your nose in disgust. You push it away from yourself.

Gross.

Tim shrugs back, because, what else can he really respond with? “I didn’t know him at all.” He pauses, looking out the kitchen's open door. “Wouldn't Bruce have known him as well as you did?”

You shake your head. “No, Tim, me and Jason were… different, I guess. I had a crush on him when we were teens.” You shift in your seat and instinctively reach for the pendant around your neck. “And Dick was doing his whole Titans thing at the time, so they weren’t as close.”

Your sadness subsides and that familiar warmth runs through you as you imagine yourself and Jason laying on the roof, reading your favorite scenes from the book and enjoying the cool summer air.

In the winter, you would go out with a few blankets and huddle extra close; eventually, when your hands would get to cold to read, it would end in the two of you huddling close for warmth (something that Jason had always produced a lot of) and staying there until Bruce would start calling for you.

Your lips twist into a soft smile.

Tim stares at you. “You need help.”

“Speak for yourself, Mr. Force Batman To Have Another Robin.”

….

A tapping at your bedroom window stirs you from the near-sleep state you had been in; your heart pounds as you shoot up and look towards the window. Your heart slows only a few beats per minute when you see a familiar red helmet through the window.

You stand up and unlock your window, letting Jason climb through one side of the double doors.

He sighs through his helmet as he goes to remove it; you hear the familiar series of click and whirs and then he places the helmet on a chair in your room.

“Nice Pajamas.” He says, in a playful sort of way. There’s a healthy dose of something else though, that you can’t quite place.

You look down at yourself. You’re wearing a very thin tank top and some comfy PJ shorts. Not exactly appropriate in front of other people.

“Uh, thanks?” You say as you grab a hoodie from beside your bed and throw it on.

Once you’ve covered up a bit more, you turn back to Jason. “Why are you here?”

He stares at you, his eyes traveling your body for a few moments before they meet yours. “I just wanted to apologize. For the other day.” He takes a step closer.

You cross your arms. “I want to know why.”

Jason cringes. “I snapped yesterday because I’m just not right in the head yet. I still lose control and say things I shouldn’t. My perception of things is so fucked up sometimes I can’t tell what’s real.”

You nod slowly. “But why, Jason? How are you alive, why is your brain messed up?”

He sighs deeply. “I did die.” He says simply, like that really explains anything. You wait for him continue. “I died, and Ra’s Al Ghul threw me in the Lazarus Pit because he owed a favour to Bruce.” The words are spoken so plainly but you understand the pain behind them. “I’m only alive because of a favour.” His tone is so downtrodden, devastated.

You’ve heard about the Lazarus Pit, how it could drive someone to madness— you guess that must’ve happened with Jason.

It was the theorized reason for Gotham’s problem, after all; or rather, theorized by Barbara Gorden.

You supposed that made sense. “My God, Jason, you’ve been through so much.”

Your heart aches for him, for all the things you should have prevented.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“It’s okay.”

…..

The morning light shines brightly through your window, usually your curtains are drawn but there are quite a few unusual things about this morning.

First and most importantly, you have a suited up Jason, sleeping at your side; his arm is wrapped protectively around you.

He looks so beautiful when he’s sleeping; you’re not sure if he ever has restless sleep, but he seems so peaceful and at ease— relaxed, even. It’s nice to see his face unplagued by any of his troubles.

However, according to your clock, it’s almost the time when Alfred would come to wake you for breakfast, meaning Jason had to leave— and fast.

“Jason.” You say his name softly, nudging him awake. He stirs, and his eyes shoot open.

He looks panicked for a moment before your face processes in his mind, then he visibly calms down.

“I fell asleep.” He states, disentangling from you and laying into his back.

You hum, still looking at him. “Yes, you did.” The air is thick with some sort of easy tension, a fading smile, a far-off laugh— a general sense of mundanity that you want to keep forever. “But you have to leave now, if you don’t want anyone else to know your identity.”

“Right.” Jason gets up from the bed and stretches slowly, causing you to do the same.

He turns to grab his helmet— or rather, you see him stop, stare at it for a moment, and then spin back around.

Before you can process it, he’s caging you on your bed. Your eyes close as he closes the gap between the two of you, a swift movement that leaves you barely anytime to think.

When he pulls back, off the bed, and flashes you an easy smile, you think you very well might swoon like you were right out of a 60s television show.

Jason slips his helmet back on and closes it before unlatching the window and stepping out. “Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye.” You stare at the spot where he was standing for a while longer before laying back down in your bed.

…..

“Hey.” You say nonchalantly, coming up behind Bruce.

He’s working on the Batcomputer right now. “Hello.”

“What’cha Doing?” You scan the contents of the screen, and it just looks like feed from the Manor’s many cameras. You aren’t too worried about Jason being seen on them, because he always hacks the cameras and scrubs himself from the data.

“I’m just doing the weekly camera check, Y/n.” Bruce looks back at you momentarily, and then returns to the feeds.

You screw around behind him for a while before you hear a small hum. You look up at the camera, trying to see what has caught Bruce’s attention. The timestamp says it’s from a few nights ago.

You watch as he replays a specific moment.

He replays it a few more times before you finally see it. A familiar flash of red, and then a motorcycle driving away from the manor.

Worse, the flash of red comes from right outside your window.

Bruce enhances the footage and zooms in on what you’re sure is Jason.

“Red Hood was at the Manor three days ago.” He states, looking back at you. “He appears to be leaving your bedroom, did you know about this?”

You pause for a second but shake your head. “No, of course not, I was sleeping.” You pretend to shudder. “That’s creepy to think that he was in there while I was sleeping.”

Bruce eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t protest or question any further. “We’ll have to heighten security in your room. Red Hood obviously chose it for a reason.”

You freeze. “That’s not necessary, Bruce, he didn’t screw with anything, obviously.”

“Even if he isn’t intending to hurt any of us, Y/n, there are several very bad things that could happen as a result of his being able to get into our house. Not to mention, I’ve noticed several discrepancies in our camera feeds over the past month or so.” He gestures to another frame, showing what looks like normal footage, but it’s the same five minutes replaying, according to the timestamps. “If you watch carefully, every minute, on the dot, a bug flies in front of the camera. It’s the same bug and the same flight pattern. If that’s Red Hood’s patch job, he’s not very good at this.”

Your lips purse, and you chew on the inside of your cheek. “That is weird.” You can’t really say anything else without making yourself look suspicious. You’ll have to let Jason know before he thinks about coming around here again.

He goes back to the previous footage, of Jason at your door, and enhances it even more— your window is clear now, and the floor behind it. Bruce rewinds it to the moment that Jason reaches the window. He presses play again, and lets the video play slowly, analyzing Jason’s every movement.

You cringe when you see Jason knock on the window a few times, and you’re terrified for Bruce to see what you know is coming next.

“Bruce!” You blurt, just before you’re about to come into view. “Tim just texted me and said he needed you to come upstairs right now.”

Bruce turns to you, confused. “Did he say what about?”

You shake your head. “No, he just said it was urgent.”

Bruce nods and leaves you alone in the batcave. You have maybe ten minutes until he comes back, knowing that you lied.

You try to fiddle with footage and delete that part that incriminates you, but without Bruce’s password you can’t do that.

Fuck. You don’t know it.

You panic for a minute and then abandon your mission to delete the footage, instead you race upstairs and into your bedroom, throwing together a bag of clothes and other essentials, as well as some sentimental items.

You’re about to sneak out the window when you see the old worn book. You snatch it quickly, along with your phone and car keys.

Bruce’s voice comes from down the hallway, calling your name; it doesn’t matter, you don’t stop until you’re outside and in your car.

You know he’s watching as you speed off, tears welling as you disable the tracking devices in your phones and car. When Bruce finally watches that footage, he’s going to think you betrayed him and you’re going to lose the one place that you’d ever felt at home in.

You’ve never felt so low before.

…..

Tears fall pitifully from your cheeks; you really shouldn’t be this upset.

Jason watches uncomfortably from his chair in his office; you knew he never liked you crying, and he was never great at dealing with it.

All he ever needed to do was be there, though.

“Please stop crying.” He says gently, as he walks over to you. “What happened?”

You shrug, which makes no sense because you know exactly what happened. “I can’t go back to the manor.”

Jason scrunches in confusion and a hint of anger at the conclusions you know he’s jumping to. “What did he do?”

“Bruce didn’t do anything.” Wiping the tears from your eyes, you pull back from him. “He was going over security camera footage and found a camera you forgot to wipe… he hadn’t watched the full thing when I ran out of there but he’s watched it by now, I’m sure.”

“And that matters…why?” Jason obviously doesn’t understand what you’re implying.

You absentmindedly drum your fingers against your wrist. “I very clearly let you in the window in the footage. You didn’t break in, I let you in. Bruce knows that now too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Jason looks around the office, like there’s something that would help on the walls. There isn’t. His eyes settle back into you, but you’re not looking at his face. “You can stay with me.”

He says it so easily, like it’s only natural— you suppose it is. Nothing had ever been more natural than being with him.

You also think you’d probably like that. “Do you live in this building or…?”

He laughs and then shakes his head. “No, I hijacked one of Bruce’s warehouses a long time ago and have been living there. We can go now, I’m done for today anyway.”

You step out into the hallway and he takes your hand in his; you think that he feels protective around his lackeys, because he doesn’t really like them. He would rather they all fell off the face of the earth, but he knows that won’t happen so he’d rather control where their product is being pushed.

Or that’s what he told you, anyways,

You go down a different set of corridors than you’re used to, and it leads to a garage.

The unsettlingly beautiful woman is standing at the door, she says nothing when Jason pushes the door open and leads you through.

It’s not her job to ask questions, you suppose.

“Do you want to take your car? You can follow me in mine so you know where we’re going?” He suggests, raising his eyebrows at you. “Or I can drive it over for you later and we can just use my car for now.”

“I don’t really feel like driving right now.”

He nods. “Okay.”

…..

“When you said warehouse, I was not expecting this.” You gape, looking around at his ‘apartment.’ “It looks more like a pent-house.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, well, that's kind of what it is.” Jason runs his finger along the surface of his counter. “I believe it was catalogued as a safe house and a warehouse.”

You shrug. “You wiped it from the system, so I wouldn’t know.”

There’s a sort of awkward reluctance dancing around the two of you, like you aren’t sure what to do with yourselves now that it’s just the two of you alone. You haven’t been truly alone with him in such a long time.

“I guess there’s not a whole lot to do here.” He starts again, looking around. “I’m not here much. I usually just end up passing out on the couch in my office.”

You laugh dryly and look around; the whole apartment looks clean and modernist— you personally can’t stand this type of decorating but you don’t think Jason cared much to change how the place had looked when he found it.

There’s a TV, which you’re pretty sure works but it’s gone unused. There is a short hallway with three doors down it right off the living area. It’s mostly open concept besides that small hallway. You lift your gaze upwards, following the tall in-wall bookshelves; you find that there’s a small loft above the two of you and a ladder that leads there.

“What’s up there?” You ask, walking over to the ladder.

Jason gestures up the ladder. “I’ll show you.”

The two do you climb the ladder and you pull yourself onto the loft, feeling a little unsteady.

You notice immediately that the roof looks a little strange just above the platform.

Jason clears his throat and walks over to one of the walls. He hovers in front of a small silver panel. “You know, there’s a reason I chose this one.” He presses a button on the panel while he looks over at you.

A few creaks sound and then some loud mechanical noises sound before the roof panels recede to reveal the setting sun. The sunset is so beautifully visible from the sunroof.

“Jason.” You breath, dumbfounded.

He picks a book off of the floor of the loft. “I used to try to recreate our moments on the roof, but it just wasn’t the same without you.” He flips the book a few times in hands. “And this wasn’t quite right either.”

“I couldn’t handle the rooftop without you.” You whisper, not sure if he even hears you; you try to speak a little louder. “The first time you showed up at the house was the first time I had done it in years.”

“Huh.” Jason responds, sounding nonchalant but you know it means something to him.

“Wait here.” You rush back down the ladder and grab your book, and then head back up. Jason stares at it for a while. You hold it up, and pass it to him. “For Old Times Sake?”

…..

You had sat there with him for hours that day, you watched as the day melted into night and felt as you slowly fell asleep. You and Jason were tangled together, cuddled so close it was like you had never really been apart in the first place.

At some point, you’re drifting in and out of consciousness. Your hands twitch gently and you adjust yourself a bit but you don’t open your eyes.

You’re pretty sureJason still thinks you're asleep because he presses a kiss to the top of your head and then quietly speaks. “I want to do this with you for the rest of our lives.” He pauses and sighs a loaded sigh. “Not just for Old Times Sake.”

You decide it’s probably better to just try to fall back asleep, despite the way your stomach churns. You wanted to respond, and tell him that you wanted to fall asleep like this every night.

Tell him that you wanted to spend every day with him too.

…..

“I just want to know where she is, Red Hood.” Bruce’s voice comes through a little speaker in Jason’s office— it’s a line that Jason had hacked into and clearly Bruce knew that.

Jason scowls and you can’t help but think about Bruce when he does.

When nobody responds to him, Bruce continues. “I want to talk to her.”

You gnaw your lips, wanting to pick it up and say you’ll talk to him but dreading confirming his suspicions.

Jason slips his helmet on and picks up the microphone. He presses the button and says, cooly, “Where would you want me to bring her, Batman?”

You can hear Bruce’s sigh of relief. “The abandoned warehouse near Arkham. You know which one I mean.”

Jason hums. “The one that Joker blew up last month.”

Bruce confirms and then Jason looks at me. “Anything you want to say?”

You shake your head, and Jason picks up the mic again. “Give us a time and we’ll be there.”

And just like that, you were going to see Bruce again.

Great.

…..

“I just don’t understand, Y/n.” Bruce says immediately when he lays eyes on you, despite the fact that he wraps you in a tight hug. “Why would you work with him?”

You pull back and look back to Jason, who’s all suited up, of course. “I—” you have no idea what to say in your defense. “I wasn’t working with him, Bruce.”

Bruce gives you a sort of ‘disappointed dad’ look. “I saw the footage, I know that you let him into the manor.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“So you were working with him.”

“No! It’s not like that!”

You’re starting to get irritated because you know Bruce has absolutely no reason to believe you.

“First, you lied about Tim needing me, and then you tried to delete the footage and then I saw you wildly speeding away from the manor. Do you understand how suspicious that looks? Obviously, you are working with him, Y/n. You don’t have to lie.” Bruce sounds sure of himself. It makes you want to tear your hair out.

“Fine. I was working with him, since you’re so sure.”

Bruce looks between you and Jason, and you can see realization dawn on his face. “Unless… don’t tell me you fell for him just because he reminds you of— Y/n, please tell me I'm wrong.”

Jason steps in this time. “Don’t worry, you’re wrong. Just not in the way you think you are.” Your head snaps back to look at him as clicks his helmet open and pulls it off.

This was the moment. He was finally showing Bruce.

You look frantically between the two of them, trying to decipher the moment.

Bruce stands frozen for a good long while, just staring at Jason’s face before he suddenly locks his arms around Jason's shoulder/neck and hugs him tighter than you’d ever seen Bruce hug anybody.

Jason looks thoroughly disturbed and taken aback. This wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, and honestly, it wasn’t what you were expecting either.

“I didn’t fall for him because he reminds me of Jason.” You say quietly. “I fell for him because he is Jason.”

Bruce pulls back and nods slowly before turning back to Jason. “I’m so sorry, Jason.”

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[her-favorite]

AN OATH; J. VALESKA (T-F)

JEROME VALESKA X F!READER (TWO-FACED III)

WARNINGS: typical jerome things - since this is going to be a series, i’m not going to put lengthy ‘warnings’ on all of them (since if you’ve watched the show, then you can the read a book with j’s violence) and remember, if something isn’t necessarily ‘accurate’, it’s just my characterization of him and we technically don’t know what he’d be like in a relationship so

WC: 10,143

A/N: i know you guys have been WAITING for this one 🙏🏻 i’m really hoping i didnt let any of you guys down with how this turned out 😭 also if anyone reads some of these the wrong way, this is not Barbara slander!! she’s my wife and i love her - posting this series on wattpad (jeromes-scars) if anyone wants to check it out on there!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 |

SUMMARY: Never expect anything rational with Jerome Valeska. He was a lunatic, a psycho. And yet, something about him captivates you. As you consider your options, you’re left in a crossroads. Time will only tell what your answer will be…

-

Click. Click. Click.

Consistent tapping of card stock against another rang in your ears. The sun blared into the open room violently, harming your eyes. The tapping on the other side of the room hadn’t stopped for what feels like hours, but you were sure it must’ve been at least twenty minutes. Irritated noises sounded from the same corner but you’ve been acting as if you were asleep the entire time, you can’t give up now. Though, you weren’t sure how much time you’d have left before he would wake you up.

The bed underneath you was soft, probably memory foam. You’ve yet to move from your spot ever since you had been told to lay in it last night. You’d be lying if you said that you had gotten any sort of sleep last night. Your thoughts kept you up and the fact you had been sleeping in the same bed, on the same mattress as a murderer wasn’t a very comforting thought to fall asleep to.

Jim was looking for you, you felt it in your heart. He always looked to you as someone to take care of, to protect when you were too vulnerable. He was always there when things would get to be too difficult and Jim would sit there and talk with you any time that you asked. You knew of Jim’s predicament between Barbara and Lee and, though he was never one to talk about his feelings, you somehow managed to make him feel comfortable enough to speak to you about the situation. Jim Gordon was like a father to you, and you his daughter.

That thought alone made you have to suppress tears that had formed behind your eyelids as you could practically hear Jim’s demanding voice yelling at cops at the GCPD to find you and to search the whole city for your whereabouts. You managed to have little hope last night as you stayed up trying to think of a way to escape the maniac that was currently holding you captive, and even with the training from the greatest cop in the city, Jerome was too far ahead. He somehow knew every thought you were going to think and it worried you how much he truly knew about you, if he had done any background searches and had somehow found childhood stories or worse, if he had been stalking you while he waited to make his first appearance.

You mentally sighed as you knew that you weren’t going to be able to pretend to be asleep for much longer without him realizing you’ve been awake the entire time. Blinking your eyes open, still trying to get used to the bright rays shining inside, your body shifts lightly on the bed.

Instantly, the clicking stops.

Your heart sped up just slightly as the room was engulfed in silence so suddenly. You tried to stop the argument that you were having with yourself as you sat up, purposely ignoring the creaks coming from in front of you and looking over at the window as clouds roll in over the sun.

“Sleeping beauty’s awake!” A cheerful voice exclaimed, fully breaking you out of your daze. Though, you should’ve expected it, a small flinch was your reaction. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to wake up.” The man rounds the corner and stands in your line of vision, making you look up at him. “That’s if, you’ve actually been asleep.” The smirk on his face lightens his features as it seems to split across his lips.

“C’mon, doll, we got a busy day ahead of us!” Without any sort of warning, a pale hand reaches out and grabs yours, pulling you up from the bed and into his arms. Your breath hitched in your throat at the impulsive action, your wrists starting to ache at his firm grip on them. “Hi, gorgeous. Fancy seeing you here.” A loud, boisterous laugh sounded from the man, making your ears hurt. If you had your hands free you would’ve put them over your ears to drown out the heinous sound.

Jerome lets go of one of your wrists but keeps a tight hold on your other. “First, we’re gonna go downstairs, have some food, maybe. Then,” he walks back over to a desk that sat in the corner of the room. “Oh, I need these!” His free hand reaches forward and grabs a stack of cards, flicking some through his finger until one flew out onto the desk. “There you are..” His voice was low as a wide smile grew on his face. He stuffs the deck in his pocket as his fingers reach back over to grab the lone card. The one you wished you hadn’t seen.

The Joker Card.

-

You wished you protested more. Maybe, just maybe he would’ve listened. The air was tense in the vast room as Jerome sat beside you, stuffing his face with the breakfast buffet that was presenting itself on the table. You sat still as you tried to ignore the uncomfortable silence and the teasing stare from Barbara Kean that sat across from you. Another woman sat beside her, but you hadn’t been introduced to her yet, and she wasn’t in the line up of the criminals that had ‘broken out’.

“So,” The blonde broke the silence as she rested her chin on her hand, moving forward and leaning her elbow on the table. “What’s this?” She looks between the both of you. Without having to glance over at him, you knew Jerome was still putting handfuls of food in his mouth, the gross sound of him chewing echoed in your ear.

“Wait a second,” Barbara paused as a smirk began to form on her lips. “I know you..” She searches you over and then gasps, putting a hand over her mouth dramatically, “You worked with Jim.” A giggle escaped her mouth as she spoke, “Funny seeing you here, huh?” She leans forward again, resting both of her arms on the table and watching you intently. You knew better than to give her a reaction as you sat still, listening to what she had to say.

“Well? You gonna answer me?” She breaks the heated eye contact first, switching between the both of you. The woman beside her doesn’t seem all that interested in the conversation as she only looks up once or twice before fiddling with the whip in her hands.

“None of your business, blondie.” Jerome finally looked up from his plate of food, almost all of it gone, with a sinister glare on his face. “Want some, gorgeous?” His demeanor changes with a snap of his fingers as he looks over at you, plunging his fork into a pancake, offering it over toward you. Before he could pull it over the table, sticky syrup still hanging off of the snack, you shake your head in response. He shrugs, “More for me.” Those same disgusting sounds resurface.

“C’mon, ginger. Once Theo finds out you brought a cop into this mess,” Barbara leans back in her chair and looks over at the woman next to her, giving her a certain expression.

“He’ll let me deal with you.” The woman finished the blonde’s sentence as the dark haired girl stares forward at the ginger. The whip cracked in her hand making Barbara smile as she glanced over at it.

Nothing in this world could ever make you flinch as bad as that laugh. It’s loud and irritating and painful to listen to as it screams in your ear, reverberating against the walls. It stung as it seemed to replay in your head, quickly forming a headache. With a flat palm against the glass surface of the table, Jerome leans back in his chair and cackles until it sounds like it hurts. He probably likes the pain.

“Oh, wow! Didn’t know,” Another cackle cut himself off, ending in a harsh wheeze. “Didn’t know you had that in ya, Tabby!” He playfully wipes a tear from his eye and rests his other hand on his stomach as if he’s trying to soothe the ache from laughing so hard. “Wasn’t that funny, sugar?” Another sharp laugh sounded from him as he animatedly tries to calm himself down.

You’ve realized, even over the coarse of just a little over an hour, that Jerome hasn’t once called you by your name. Had it been a subconscious thing of his? Does he do it to get on your nerves?

An irritated eye roll was the response from the woman across the table. Her chair screeched as she pushed it away from the table and stood up, her whip ready in her hand. Before she walked away, she turned towards Barbara and asked, “I’m gonna blow off some steam. You comin’?” She must’ve had a certain look in her eye with the way the blonde had agreed. The taller woman took her hand forcefully and pulled her out of the room, not without a small giggle from Kean, as her whip dragged across the floor.

Once the clicking of her heels faded out of the doorway and down the hall, Jerome looked over at you with a wicked smile. Not once have you figured out what his plan was. You were hoping that he’d bring the topic back up again since he hadn’t finished explaining before he brought you downstairs. Something with playing cards.. right?

“You ready for today, toots? It’s gonna be a roller coaster.” He giggles and gets up from his chair, the same loud screeching noise invading the silence again. He held out his hand, politely waiting for you to take it. You knew you should take it, maybe if you played along for a little while, navigate your way through the building, you could find your way out. With that little hope in the back of your head, you accept the offer of his hand and stand up from the chair.

As he pulled you up the stairs towards his room, you’re lost in thought, trying to reclaim every single detail from yesterday. Even with Jerome’s consistent mumbling, you ignore him as your mind goes as far as to recall when you had woken up tied to that chair with Jerome standing above you. He kept teasing you, he had killed Robert Greenwood, and then.. you were blanking. Your memories had vanished once Jerome had stopped walking and snapped his long fingers in front of your face.

“Hellooo? You in there?” With a few scattered blinks, you shake your head lightly to bring yourself back to reality.

“Yeah,” You take a deep breath before finishing, “I’m here.” Though, you wished you hadn’t been.

“Goodie! C’mon, doll, I told you we had a busy day ahead of us!” Jerome grabs your hand and sprints into his room. He sits you down on the edge of the bed and then walks over to an armoire that sat by the wall. Jerome opens the doors and sorts through the clothes, mumbling to himself, “no,” “too tacky,” “hm, maybe.” As he does so, you run your eyes over his stature, only now realizing that he had been wearing a long, red silky robe with blue pajamas underneath. Soft slippers held his feet as they were a little too small for him. Now that you had thought about outfits, you quickly looked down at yours. Your police uniform was gone. In its place was a long sleeved plaid sweater with random black sweatpants.

“You look cute in my clothes, doll face.” You look up when you hear his teasing tone, catching the wink he sent you before he turned back around and picked up a hanger from inside the closet.

Had he changed you? With your mind foggy, you realized that you must’ve fell asleep at some point. The headache from before came back full force as you tried to recall everything that had happened in that past 24 hours. You didn’t know why you couldn’t remember everything clearly, why you were so caught up in yourself. You rub your eyes as if it’ll help you remember everything.

“What is my doll gonna wear today.. hm,” he puts his finger on his chin as he thinks. You quickly try to think of something to intrigue him, truly not wanting him to pick your outfit. Who knew what was going through that maniacs head.

“Why am I here, Jerome? I mean, why am I still here?” You get up from the bed slowly, almost like you were trying to not scare away a cat. “You could’ve killed me back at the GCPD, but you didn’t. Why do you want me here?” You take a step forward, still wary of him. You were unsure of what the man was truly capable of and you were completely against seeing what he was.

The ginger tried to show no reaction as he stared off, but you noticed the way his breath seemed to hitch in his throat and the barely there picked up pace of his chest moving up and down. Mentally debating if you should keep talking, you gave him a second to adjust to the sudden question. His true origins were still yet to reveal to you. He obviously despised his mother, killing her on a hill and laughing about it. From the threats surrounding his supposed brother, he didn’t seem a fan of him either. You had yet to know what his childhood and his life was actually like. You wondered if he would ever tell you.

“Barbara might have some clothes in her room. Go look.” Jerome’s voice was heavy as he talked and he turned around, avoiding your gaze. He walked past you as he made his way back to his desk.

Rifling with objects inside a drawer, he waits for you to follow his orders. “I said go look.” You took note of the way his jaw clenched tightly and the how he tries to distract himself instead of thinking about your questions. “Go fucking look!” Jerome exclaims, motioning to the door. Even though you were used to the yelling that went around the precinct, the way Jerome had done it sent a chill down your spine. It was malicious and frankly, it was frightening.

Maybe you could find a way out if you were to try and find Jim’s former lover’s room. Without so much as a nod, you walk away and out of the door frame. The rustling seemed to stop but the clicking of the cards began again. Your hand glided across the smooth wall as you wandered down the deserted hallway. A long window was placed at the end of it, giving you a view of the city. Once you reached it, you took a moment to let your eyes search as much as you could.

The recording. It came back to you.

Jerome had been videoing himself after he shot Greenwood yesterday, before he took you here. His face was bloody from your collision and the residue from shooting the other man. When Jerome was finished speaking to the camera lens, he switched it over to you. You hadn’t spoke, but nodded to one of the ginger’s questions. Jim will know, you remember thinking that.

Jim knew about your conversation in the interrogation room that day. And though he was upset to hear about you kissing Jerome, there wasn’t anything either of you could’ve done about it then. Jim was probably scouring the city looking for you right now. The thought brought a sad smile to your face as you realized how much you missed being out in the daylight.

Without trying to dwell on it for much longer, you turn down into a random doorway, hoping that it would be one of the women’s rooms. Your eyes search the area, focusing on an identical wardrobe that was also in Jerome’s room. Hesitant at first, aware that there could be anything in this room, or anyone, that could pop out at you and risk your safety. After a few steps, you quicken your pace and make your way closer to the armoire.

The creak that sounded from the doors made you cringe, the awful noise echoing in your ears. As you search through the clothes, you pick the first thing that caught your eye, something simple. What was Jerome’s plan? Was he going to take you outside and teasingly flaunt you to the GCPD just for his amusement? Maybe then you could make a run for it, threaten him somehow.

All sorts of strategies and ideas combat in your mind as you reach in and pick out an outfit that seemed comfortable enough, and hopefully good for the weather, that is if he decides to be kind and let you get fresh air. You turn around with the fabric in your hands and wandered a bit in search for a bathroom to change in. A small connected room was in the same bedroom, flicking the light on and watching the room illuminate. As you close the door behind you, you finally, for the first time in twenty four hours, feel alone. Resting your head back against it, you breathe evenly, clutching the clothes tightly in your hands.

Once you grew comfortable with the silence, you get up and look into the mirror. With an empty mind, your hand reached up to your neck, ghosting your fingertips over the faint bruise that was starting to form. As you subconsciously swallowed, you noticed how sore your throat felt inside. You were embarrassed as you remembered what you let him do to you and the way you gave in so easily.

Trying not to let those thoughts plague you, you start to peel off the clothing that the man had put on you. You took your time replacing each fabric, at the same time trying to think of escape routes and what Jerome could possibly have planned for today.

Finally, as you straighten out your shirt, you jump when you suddenly hear a harsh knock on the door beside you. “Almost done, doll? We’re on a tight schedule today!” His loud, cheerful voice boomed through the door, invading the silence that once lingered.

Taking a deep breath, you try to compose yourself. While you were changing, you were thinking about ways to go along with his madness. Maybe if you pretend that he convinced you to turn over a new leaf and follow his actions, he’ll believe you and put his trust in you. If you try and act as if you don’t follow the GCPD anymore, maybe you’ll get lucky?

As you turn the doorknob, Jerome stands outside with a smile on his face. “Finally! Thought you died in there.” He laughs dramatically and you have to stop yourself from grimacing at the loud sound. “C’mon little miss detective, we got some work to do!” Never mind.

He grabs your hand and drags you of the bathroom and down the hall. He didn’t seem agitated anymore, acting as if his small outburst didn’t happen. That might be a good thing for you, to not let him dwell on it. The last thing you needed is to have Jerome angry at you. Even at the time, you knew that asking that question wasn’t a good idea, even if you truly do want to know the answer. With the mans sociopathic tendencies, no one knew what he was capable of, what he could truly do to you. And though you do have police training and you were sure that if Jerome were to try and fight you, you could counteract him, but with his impulsive decisions it’s difficult to know his next move, you were almost sure that he never did either.

As he pulled you along, you tried to think of any possible place he’s going to take you to. Checking off as many locations as you could, the last place you expected was the exact one he went to. You shouldn’t be surprised with him anymore.

-

The room was quiet as you waited.

When you arrived at the apartment complex and had followed Jerome up the stairs to a certain room he was looking for, you felt your breath hitch at the sight of the name on the door: Paul Cicero. You should’ve known he would come for his father.

Jerome opened the door and let you walk in first, a teasing smile on his face the entire time. You roamed around the room as you hear the door click shut behind you. No sign of any pictures relating to Jerome or his brother resided anywhere. Your fingers ghosted over the wooden counter as your eyes look over the arrangement of spices and utensils.

“Listen to me, baby,” Jerome’s voice cuts you out of your thoughts and when you look up to see where he was, you were surprised to see him just inches away from you. “When you hear that door open, I want you to go silent.” He orders, his eyes never daring to look away from yours. “This is gonna be fun.” He smiles devilishly and grabs your hand again, leading you over towards the other side of the room.

Only a few minutes pass until the door creaks and opens wide. Taps of shoes hit against the floor as the older man walks in, his cane swaying beside him. Not too long after he shuts the door, he freezes and calls out, “who’s there?” Jerome stays hidden, but the smile gave away his feelings. “I know someone’s there-“ You backed away suddenly when Jerome moved forward and wrapped a rope around his father’s neck. You tried to reach forward, your instincts coming to play, and help him, but with Jerome’s free hand, he tightly grabs your hip and pulls you behind him, limiting your reach.

“Hiya, pops. Long time.. no see.” A sinister laugh left Jerome’s mouth as he finished his sentence, tightening his grip as his one hand held either end of the rope. It reverberated in your mind until you realized that Jerome had tied his father to a chair with a cloth over his mouth.

“So, how you doin’?” Jerome rasps as he sits in a chair across from his father. You stood by the counter, a few feet away from them. It felt terrible to watch, all of it was against your moral code and especially with the oath you took to being a cop, watching this and not doing anything to stop it or to help the injured man was wrong. But that one thought in the back of your head that was trying to convince you that Jerome wasn’t going to hurt him, he was his father for fucks sake. And then you remember how you got into this mess.

“The silent treatment, huh? Hey, I’ll tell ya a story.” Jerome continues, having a one sided conversation with the man across from him. “You remember Kansas city, dad. The circus went through town every spring, right around my birthday.” His voice grows deeper as he talks, his emotions revealing themselves.

“There was this guy. Him and my mom used to drink and.. fornicate and beat the crap out of me. They’d make a whole night out of it. And I remember one time,” He put his hands out and started to get up from his chair slowly, keeping eye contact with Mr. Cicero.

“It was my ninth birthday, him and my mom had just finished round one of boozing, boning, beating up Jerome and decided to take a little break.” Jerome explains it in a way so casual, showing that he had grown accustomed to the abuse from his mother. “Anyway,” He turns and leans toward the table in front of you, picking up a knife and inspecting it as he talks.

“I was outside the trailer and you were there. And you said, “why are you crying, Jerome?”” He pauses and acts as if he’s going to cry. “It’s my birthday.. and my mom and the snake guy are beating me.” He made his voice higher, impersonating his younger self.

“And then you said, “this world doesn’t care about you or anyone else, Jerome. Better to realize that now.”” With his voice deeper and raspier pretending to be his father, the tone sent chills down your spine. Jerome pauses before continuing, “And that was it.” He looks over at his dad with a large smile.

“You see, there’s this guy, dad, he believes in me, he thinks I’m gonna be a star!” Jerome exclaims and rushed over to the man tied to the chair, pointing the knife at him dangerously. “And tonight.. all of Gotham will see that, too. Expect for you because you’ll be, well, ya know, dead.” Had it been in any other situation, you would’ve laughed. But you were about to witness a murder before your eyes.

Jerome reaches behind Paul and undoes the cloth that was knotted behind his head. Mr. Cicero began to plead with his son, but Jerome quickly shut it down, his anger coming to the surface. You watch them converse, or rather argue, about something, but Jerome’s words linger in the back of your head. He was abused? How come that was never in his file? How had that not been revealed to you?

An hysteric laugh cut you out of your thoughts. “That’s not why I’m gonna kill you!” Jerome smiles widely and turns back around, facing the table. With the knife still in one hand, he reaches the other forward and holds up blueprints. “Plans to Arkham Asylum,” he lets it fall from his hold, showing it to his father. Picking up something else, he turns around and shows him again, “And look at these, oh,” he walks over to Mr. Cicero and brushes the material against his cheek. “Letters between you and your troubled son. Innocent at first glance, but Detective Gordon, you remember him, right? You’ll feel little bumps.. a secret message, written in braille between you and your son discussing my escape!” He throws the envelopes and extends his arms out, regaining his energy and smiling happily.

Jerome makes his way back to the table and grabs a can off of it. “Finally, the knockout gas, used to disable the orderlies!” He moves it around before setting it back down. Walking back over to his father be speaks, “Cause you see, dad,” Jerome picks up the chair he was sitting in before. “This guy I was telling you about,” he places the chair down in front of Paul. “He’s the one who broke me out of Arkham. He doesn’t want anyone to know about that.” Jerome sits down on the backwards chair, not before looking back at you with a wink after he finished talking. Your jaw clenches as you let his words soak in.

“The police will find these letters and they’ll think, “the blind old fool really loved his son, what a wonderful father. Oh, there won’t be a dry eye in the house.”” Jerome takes his dads tie and lightly dabs his cheeks, pretending to wipe away tears.

“They’ll never believe it.” Mr. Cicero denies.

“Oh, sure they will,” Jerome shrugs nonchalantly. “Cops are dumb.” He pauses before straightening out in his chair and looking back at you. “Besides you, gorgeous.” He smiles in a charming manner and sends you another teasing wink, finding it amusing in the way you react.

“Oh, would’ja look at that?” He giggles at his joke and gestures towards the clock. “We gotta go, doll!” He gets up from his chair and moves it out of the way. “Sorry you’re gonna miss my big night, dad. Hey, you’re psychic. So tell me.. do I kill?”

Mr. Cicero inhales sharply and a vicious look overtakes his features as he responds, “You will be a curse upon Gotham. Children will wake from sleep screaming at the thought of you. Your legacy will be death and madness.”

Jerome smiles wickedly and leans down to the side of his fathers face. With a menacing whisper that sends chills down your spine, you hear,

“Ha. Ha. Ha.”

Moving away and grabbing Paul tightly, Jerome wraps up the meeting. “Welp, say hi to mom for me.” Before you could try to stop him as you rush over, Jerome lifts his arm and throws it down to connect his blade with his fathers eye.

Knock. Knock.

Jerome freezes, as do you. The ginger places a hand over Paul’s mouth to silence any pleas.

“GCPD.” Jim. That was Jim. You could go out there now and tell him that you were okay, that you didn’t need him to worry anymore. But something inside you prevented that. You didn’t know what it was and it made you feel sick. In that moment, the thought of staying with Jerome was an actual option. It made you feel nauseous.

Another knock sounded from behind the door. “GCPD. Mr. Cicero, it’s Detective Gordon. We need to speak with you about your son.” You look back over at Jerome, noticing that he was already watching you. He had a hard stare on his face as he notices the way you hesitate. Taking a deep breath, you nod your head slowly, telling him that you weren’t going to leave. The furrow in his eyebrows undoes itself and a wide smile grows on his face.

“Mr. Cicero?” At that exact moment, Jerome quickly plunges the blade through his fathers eye as Paul cries out in agony. With a quiet giggle from the ginger, he rushes away and grips your hand, pulling you out of the open window. Before he steps foot outside the frame, he digs his fingers into his pocket and pulls out a card. Tossing it to the floor as it lands over by his father, the figure on the card stock standing out.

The Joker.

It was perfect timing for Jerome as he turns the corner, watching Jim pull Harvey out of the room, the blue knockout gas floating out of the doorway. Collapsing to the floor, Jim leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath. As Jerome starts to whistle, he walks down the hallway toward the two. You watch with an anxious heart, your feet feeling like they were planted to the floor and your mouth sewed shut.

“Detective Gordon, old pal.” Jerome speaks, crouching down beside the cop. “That gas sure packs a-“ Jerome sighs as he stops Jim from trying to hit him. He takes the gun from the detective as Jim loses his balance and falls against him. “That’s cute.” Jerome mocks, but was quickly cut off when Jim mustered up enough strength and pushed him up against the wall.

With Jim’s hand around Jerome’s neck, he rasps playfully, “I’m sensing.. anger.”

“You killed Sarah Essen.” Jim says with a heavy tone. Jerome killed your boss? Was it before you had woken up? How did he never tell you? Jerome smiles at the truth, nodding his head as much as he could.

“Now I’m gonna kill you.” You should stop this. Stop this fight, one of them may die, Jerome still has the gun. As soon as you move forward a step or two, Jerome lifts up his arm to press the barrel of the gun against Jim’s head.

“Jerome!” You shout instinctively. So many people have died already, the last person you wanted to see shot was Jim Gordon. He was all you had left.

Jerome’s head shot over to look at you, caught off guard by your shout. Jim followed at the sound of your voice, his face softening as he realized that you were okay. Before he could do anything, Jerome hit him on the side of the head with the gun, knocking him unconscious. Before he fell into a sleep, you just barely heard him whisper, “Y/N.” You felt a piece of your heart shatter for the first time in a while.

“Ugh, c’mon, doll!” Jerome groans and stands up, brushing off his knees. “Never let me have any fun.” He pouts dramatically, looking over at you with his own version of puppy eyes. You didn’t know what reaction he was expecting of you as you stood there, taking glances over at the two men that you cared for knocked out on the floor before you.

“This is just the beginning, baby. Soon, I’ll be the King of Gotham with you beside me as my Queen.” Jerome smiles with genuine happiness, walking over to you. You couldn’t completely tell yet, but you were almost one hundred percent sure that Jerome had placed his trust in you, something that would clearly be difficult for someone like him, and you truly didn’t know why he chose you… and you truly didn’t know why you started to reciprocate it.

“You’ll see, doll. Everyone will see.”

-

Once you both made it back to Theo Galavan’s house, he brought you back to his room almost like it was a reflex. “Busy day, doll, busy day.” Jerome would mutter or occasionally sing. He had his hand in yours, swinging it back forth slightly, whether it was a subconscious thing or not.

It was obvious how much Jerome craved the physical contact, as you wouldn’t be able to recall the amount of times he’s held your hand today. His palms were slightly rough, you were sure it was because of his days at the circus, working day and night, traveling to so many places. You noticed that freckles had littered his arms and lead up to his hand, scattered on his pale skin. The orange hair that rested on his arm was barely visible, his adorning marks seeming to take the spotlight.

Taking you by surprise, Jerome stops abruptly and pulls you close to him. His left hand never leaves yours as his opposite takes hold of your hip. With a sharp intake of air, you look up at him, trying to figure out what he was going to do.

The hand that was holding yours moved it up in a position that looked like you were about to dance. You were proved right when Jerome took a step forward, placing your other hand on his shoulder and moving with you. It wasn’t an award worthy performance, but Jerome seemed to have fun.

“Was thinking about what you said earlier, beautiful.” He breaks the silence and looks down at you, stepping back as you followed. “And since I plan to make you my Queen,” he trails off and shrugs, “I guess you’d want an explanation as to why you’re here.” His hand tightens ever so slightly in yours. “I see something within you, doll.. that same glint that was in my eyes when I planned to murder Lila.” He spits out the last word with malice, showing that even just saying her name rose anger inside him.

You opened your mouth to protest his statement, but he makes sure to speak first. “Ah, ah, let me finish.” He sways his body lightly, still moving in step with you. “We can rule this city, just you and me. Everyone will be under our control.” Jerome smiles widely, showing his teeth. “You know you want it, baby, don’t try and deny it.” He twirls you and then quickly pulls you back toward him, into his chest.

“Jerome,” your mind went blank as you tried to think of how to refuse his words. Everything felt constricting, like just this little time of you dancing with him was narrowing down your chances for a future. You’re a cop, that’s what you were always going to be. You couldn’t hand over your life over to this maniac as he tries to convince you while he serenades you. If you agreed to this, your life would be over. What would happen when Jerome would get on someone’s bad side and they decided they needed him gone? What would be the point continuing this madness if the reason you started wasn’t there anymore? Once you realized that you began to consider it, you berated and cursed yourself for even taking the second to even think of it as a decision. Besides, how could you leave Jim? He taught you everything about being a good cop, he was there every step of the way. How could you abandon him now?

“Shh, doll, I can hear your thoughts from here.” Jerome keeps swaying, leaning forward and whispering in your ear. His voice snaps you out of your options, blinking at the sudden intrusion. His hand leaves your hip and rests on the back of your head, pushing on it gently to lean it against his chest. “Just imagine it, sugar. We’ll run this city and make it better- or, well, worse. We can do whatever we want, whenever we want without any consequences because we’ll be the ones making the rules.” Jerome doesn’t stop moving once, the actions seeming to spur him on more. He was never one to slow down.

“All you have to do is say yes.” He whispers.

All you have to do is say yes.

-

The room was buzzing with chatter, the area filled with people. Women and men were dressed in their finest attire as they conversed with each other, some laughing and others smiling.

You stood in a long dress, looking around the vast room. You were told to blend in with the others in the room as you were given the clothes to wear to match. A mask was placed over your eyes, it looked similar to one you’d see at a masquerade ball. It was the same color as your dress, a dull, dark blue. Jerome didn’t want it vibrant, he had hinted to you that he had some sort of plan in mind for you, but he never told you what it was or when he was going to put it into action.

Before you both had left to make your way over to the event, Jerome had stopped you before you could walk away. He took your hip in one hand and held your neck, not in a hostile way, he just wanted to feel your skin under his hand. His eye contact with you never failed to make goosebumps form on your skin. When he broke the silence between you both, he said, “Think about what I said.” He whispered before continuing, “We will be worshiped. Just give in to me.” Jerome smiles that crazed grin at you and then walks away.

For the half an hour you’ve been standing here, you’ve reviewed your options millions of times. It made you feel sick that you actually considered the life that Jerome could give you. Even if he didn’t say it, he did care for you. And you were sure that wasn’t an easy thing to admit, especially with a personality like his.

If you go with Jerome, so many things could backfire. What if he was leading you on and decided to throw you away once he persuaded you to agree? What if you die a villain in your story? You became a cop because you wanted to help others, not hurt them. All of the things Jerome stands for are the exact thing you don’t. He thinks it’s entertaining to watch people die, to kill them with no remorse. He thinks there aren’t any consequences for some of the things he does and you’d be lying if you said that there wasn’t a little spark of worry inside you that, that could be the reason he might die some day.

But if you went with your gut and stayed true to yourself.. you weren’t sure where it could lead you. Would you still be offered your same job? What happens when they find out you hadn’t tried to escape from the lunatic and they fire you without any notice? There’s zero possibility that you’d be able to make it anywhere else in this city. Worst of all, Jim may never speak to you again. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to live with that.

As you stood in the back, you observed the room. The stage was empty of people, the tables and chairs occupied by wealthy couples, and.. Bruce Wayne? Your shoulders dropped as well as your heart.

“First, I’m gonna kill Bruce Wayne..” Jerome’s words from last night had rang in your head like a chime. Your breathing altered slightly, your chest moving up and down faster. Against your better judgment, you began taking quiet, smooth steps over to the boy. He stood next to an older man as they looked forward at the stage. As soon as you became just a few feet away from the billionaire boy, a voice echoed through the room.

“Good evening. I’m Dr. Lee Tompkins.” Your head immediately looked over at the stage. You knew her.. the Medical Examiner, Jim’s girlfriend. Your mind tries to figure out how Jerome ties into this, until you hear, “Over the years, we had magicians come in and entertain our children. So, tonight, we have one of the magicians here for you. Without further ado, please allow me to present to you.. The Great Rudolpho.” Lee smiles and the stage light travels over to a box with a woman in a pink tutu and mask, similar to yours, standing in front of it.

As she opens the box, she feigns surprise once she notices it was empty. When she closes it and stalls for a second, she opens the box again, a man inside it now. He yawns and then gasps once he realizes everyone can see him. The crowd laughs at the man’s actions and claps.

If it were possible, you felt your heart sink even lower than it already was. Jerome had a handsome suit on with a fake beard and mustache, a big hat and an eye mask on his face.

“Greetings, ladies and germs! I am, indeed, the Great Rudolpho!” His accent was strange, it felt wrong in your ears compared to his normal voice. He bows, as well as the woman. Your gaze follows the woman as you look her up and down, trying to shake the familiarity that she has. Your head moved to look at the floor and your eyes fell shut as you realized.. Barbara Kean.

When you look back up, a bird flies through the crowd. A red cloth was in Jerome’s hand, signaling to you that he was the one that did it.

“For my first act, I’ll require a volunteer!” His voice rang out into the crowd through the microphone. “Let me see,” he looks away from everyone and points his finger as he says, “Duck, duck, duck.. duck, duck, duck.. goose.” He points forward, just a few feet away from you. His gaze returns as he stares towards where his finger was pointed. You quickly look to your left as you see Bruce Wayne’s perplexed expression. The man had whispered something to the boy as the assistant, Barbara made her way toward him and offered out her hand for him to take.

You couldn’t let Jerome kill him, let alone on a stage in front of a crowd of people. You needed to stop this, to reach out and pull him away from Barbara so he couldn’t take her hand, because that act itself might cost him his life.

Hesitantly, Bruce accepted her hand, following her as she walked away. You walked forward impulsively, about to reach out to try and grab one of them, but before you could, Barbara turned around and sent you a wink from under her mask. It made you freeze since you weren’t expecting it, and once you broke out of it, you realized that the two were already on stage.

“Hello, young man.” Jerome was standing beside a box that was lying down on a table. Your eyes widened when you saw what it truly was and you suddenly felt nauseous. Your mouth opened just slightly, but it was enough to catch the man’s attention. As Jerome grabbed the large blades, he gave you a slow, small nod, the same kind that you did to him when Jim was knocking on Mr. Cicero’s door.

“Well, Bruce, this won’t hurt a bit.” Jerome clashes the metal together, a loud, reverberating sound that stung your ears. “Is there a doctor in the house?” The crowd laughs at his words, but your head turns once you hear the older man beside you begin to protest, obviously nervous for the boy’s safety. Without any hesitation, Jerome slides the blades through the box, making you flinch. They pull the box apart, showing you - and the man - that Bruce was okay. You let out a sigh of relief involuntarily, matching with the man beside you.

Barbara took Bruce back to his guardian and then stayed put, waiting for Jerome to keep talking. “Now, for this other trick, we’re gonna need a new volunteer!” He shouts, a smile on his face. He pretends to look around before stopping and gasping. “Well, look at that! What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing in a place like this?” Barbara walks a few steps before holding out her hand with a smirk. You try to hide your reaction, but your eyes widen slightly. Is this what he was planning?

Knowing no better way to get out of this, you take her hand. The room watched you two closely and you felt the eyes from Bruce Wayne and his butler watching.

Barbara smiles and begins walking back over to the stage, taking you with her. Both of your heels clicked on the floor, filling the silent room. She let you walk up the stairs first before following after you. You hesitantly make your way towards Jerome, the smile bright as ever on his face. The beard and mask did wonders to hide his identity as you grow closer.

“Who do we have under that mask?” His accent was louder as you neared him. Was this apart of his act? Some sort of trick that he’d ‘guess’ who you were and stun the others?

Jerome circles you once before standing back in front of you, that infamous grin on his face never wavering. He lifts his hand and places it on your chin, turning your head every which way, the exaggerated action producing laughs from the crowd. He hums and takes his hand away, playfully stroking his beard. A quiet, barely audible gasp was heard from the crowd, but you knew that the only people that could hear it was you and Jerome. His smirk widens as the small noise brushes by his ears.

As quick as you could, your eyes dart out to the people, trying to figure out who it was. Your eyes caught the two in the back, Lee now gone from behind them (did Jerome have something to do with that or was she just grabbing a water?), and Bruce’s mouth agape. He mumbled something to the older man as he looks your way, seeming to have recognized who you were, even from behind the mask. The video Jerome made must’ve been aired on the news that night, that’s the only possible way he’d know.

“I think I know ya from somewhere! Yeah.. I think I saw ya on the TV at some point.” Jerome taps his chin as he looks off, pretending to think. “Well, gorgeous,” he walks closer and grabs your hand gently, raising it to his lips and says, “Why don’t’cha stay up here for a while, huh?” He kisses your hand and looks back over at the crowd, shouting out, “Who agrees?” Cheers and hollers are heard from the crowd as Jerome lifts up your arm slightly, showing you off. You feel goosebumps raise on your skin at the attention, deciding to avert your gaze to the man beside you. “You’re gonna love what’s to come, doll face.” Jerome whispers teasingly and leads you toward Barbara, before walking away and asking for the Deputy Mayor to come up to the stage.

You watch carefully as he ghostly trails his fingers over the various knives. You knew what was going to happen, and yet you felt hopeless to stop it.

Finally, when Jerome picks one up, he looks up and smiles devilishly. “By the way, nobody here.. is getting out alive.” The crowd gasps and shouts as Jerome throws the knife, lunging the blade into the mans chest. A chill went down your spine as you watch Jerome shrug and the Deputy Mayor fall to the floor.

Catching you off guard (though, with Jerome, you really shouldn’t be anymore), loud gunshots echo throughout the room. Lights fall and break as people scream and try to flee, only to fail. As you expected, Jerome laughs loudly, tearing off the disguise.

“Finally! This thing is itchy.” He grumbles and scratches his chin and cheeks, light red marks forming, only to disappear a few seconds after. He turns and looks over at you as chaos is still being created. With a sinister grin, he walks over to you and forcefully grabs your hips. “Been waiting to get my hands on ya. Miss the way you feel against me.” He whispers hotly in your ear, making goosebumps form on your skin. He giggles as he finishes speaking, leaning down and leaving a kiss on your neck before moving back to the center stage.

When Jerome lets you go, a change in the corner of your eye made you look over. A gasp left your mouth as you watched Lee be tied up to a wheel. As she fights back, her eyes search the room until they land on you. With the mask still on your face, you didn’t know if she could tell who you were or not. But you were sure that your concerned expression was all she needed to know.

Breaking you out of your daze, Jerome’s voice invaded your ears again. “Sorry, Jimbo, it’s just little ol’ me!” Your eyes widened at the name. He’s talking to Jim? Ignoring your racing heart, you felt a part of it calm down to know that he was okay.

“Are you outside? Oh, you are, aren’t you?” Jerome talks animatedly to the phone that was pressed up to his ear. You only just noticed that he was directly in front of a camera, quickly moving away from him. “Goodie!” He giggles.

There were mumbles from the receiver, but you heard Jim’s voice clearly as he spoke, “I swear to god, if you’ve hurt her,” but the detective didn’t get to finish his sentence as Jerome cut him off.

“Which one?” He smiles and laughs. “See for yourself! This is live television after all!” He turns and walks towards you. “Oh, whoops! Get this thing off your face, doll.” His fingers curl under your mask as he takes it off and throws it haphazardly. His arm wraps around your waist as he brings you close to him. The camera pans over to Barbara as she pretends to shoot Lee.

You hear a faint, “Y/N?” from the other side of the call.

“Huh? You mean my girl right here?” Jerome mocks confusion as he looks over at you, squeezing your hip. “You know her?” He laughs at his own joke, the loud cackle reverberating off the walls.

“You son of a bitch.” Jim’s words were laced with malice as he talked.

“True, but.. not the point.” Jerome shakes his head. He lets you go, not before pressing a kiss to your forehead, for himself and to make Jim more upset, and walks back over to the camera lens. “Lets talk about what I want!” He pauses before listing off, “$47 million dollars, a helicopter, obviously, the dry cleaning I left at Mr. Chang’s, be careful, that man is a crook! And oh, I don’t know.. a pony!” He smiles widely as he knows Jim was getting more agitated as time went by. “You got 10 minutes before I start killing people and, remember, this is being broadcasted to every home in Gotham, so.. ya know, don’t let people die. Bye!” He laughs hysterically into the phone, suddenly coming to a stop as he hangs up the phone. He turns and says, “I think that went well.”

“Enough!” The random voice caught your ears immediately, your eyes scouring the crowd to find where it came from. “You need to pack up your pathetic little side show and leave.” Galavan.

Jerome turns back to the front and smiles, “Is that right?”

Theo walks towards the stage as he speaks, “It may presumptuous to speak for all the citizens of Gotham, but we are sick of you! You’re a small, vicious man with a pathetic need for attention.” Jerome’s smile never falters as he bows proudly. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at his words, obviously rehearsed and acted out beforehand. What was his plan? Had Jerome been rehearsing this part with him as well and you didn’t know? “Enough, man, enough.”

“I’m curious what you’re leverage is here. Mr…?” Jerome trails off, walking towards the man.

He turns towards the camera and artificially says, “Theo Galavan.” More of his plan seems to reveal itself to you as seconds went by.

“Well, Mr. Theo Galavan, if you don’t sit down,” Jerome moves back some of Galavan’s hair playfully. “I’m going to shoot you.. in the face!” He smiles widely and started to walk away again, towards the crowd.

“I know there is some human decency left in you,” Jerome teasingly points to himself, as if challenging Theo’s words. “If you need to take a hostage, take me. But let these people go home, to their families, to their children,” before he could finish, Barbara came over and hit his head with a hammer.

She sighs, “boring.”

“Right?” Jerome agrees and walks back towards you. Barbara makes her way back to Lee as she argues with her.

“Isn’t this fun, gorgeous?” He smiles widely and grabs your hand, unexpectedly twirling you. He lets you unroll all the way until his fingers straighten out, and then tugs you back into his grasp. You land on his chest as his opposite hand takes home on your hip. “Your heart racing, the adrenaline rush, the feeling of your body on fire, oh! It’s exhilarating.” He laughs and steps in line with you as he repeats his action from earlier, placing your hand on his shoulder as he holds your other palm.

“When you come with me, this is all gonna be ours. Everything, everyone will be under our control, our thumbs.” Jerome’s eyes convey the excitement and the anticipation that he felt in that moment. The way he describes it, the once in a lifetime offer, a promise for an unpredictable and chaotic future that Jerome so desperately craved. And he had picked you to spend it with.

He stepped forward and around as he held you, not caring about the numerous eyes that watched you both, or he just didn’t notice, too caught up with you. His grip tightened quickly as the hand on your hip traveled down to your thigh, suddenly dipping you back. “Promise me somethin’, doll.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, “Never forget me.” He brings you back up in a standing position with a bright smile on his face. His hand travels up in a fast motion, circling around your neck, resting his palm against the skin like he had done earlier. Your breath hitches as he leans down and presses his lips against yours, his fingers ever so slightly digging into your skin. “Show time, toots.” He whispers against your lips with a smile.

Jerome walks back towards the middle of the stage, grabbing the microphone harshly. “Well, I think it’s time for tonights first official victim! You all know and love, poor rich boy, parents murdered in an alley, and my second favorite volunteer.” He smiles teasingly and looks back at you with a wink. “Where is.. Bruce Wayne!” He calls out to the silent room, waiting. He talks into the mic in a softer tone, trying to appeal to the boy to come out of hiding, “Did you know I’m an orphan, too, Bruce? I killed my parents, though. Where are you hiding?” His eyes search the area, before yelling into the mic, “Bruce!”

“Kill his butler.” Barbara suggests, her hands on her hips. She had an angry look on her face, probably from the conversation she had with Lee.

“All right, last chance, Bruce. But it’s about to get very butler brainy out here.” Jerome grumbles and motions toward the older man in the crowd. You watch the situation unfold, unsure of what to do. With the amount of time that had passed, you were positive Jim had made it inside the building. Maybe he had Bruce? You hoped that was the case.

“Eh, I’m bored. Shoot the butler!” Jerome sighs and says in a defeated tone. He was losing his patience and it was obvious.

“Stop!” A yell sounded from the curtain as Bruce sprinted toward his guardian. The man had begun to scold him, before Bruce had whispered something to him. Jerome quickly ran from the stage and forcefully held Bruce, a knife to his throat.

He backed up towards the stage as he smiles. “Let’s get this started, huh?” Jerome giggles and keeps the knife steady against the boys neck.

A gunshot echoed from one side of the building, Jim Gordon making his way through the red curtain. You felt relief wash over you as you saw him, but there was something else you felt in that moment.. something you couldn’t place yet.

“I don’t have a clean shot.” Jim aimed the gun at the murderer, staying as still as possible.

“Stay calm, Bruce.” The older man had told the younger boy, trying to keep the boy’s attention on him.

“Seems like we’ve got ourselves a pickle! What do ya say, Brucey-boy, wanna boost our ratings?” Jerome laughs crazily and presses the blade against the boys pale skin, starting to draw blood. “Smile!”

As you started to rush over to the pair, you were too distracted for the boys safety to realize someone had woken up. With a loud voice, Galavan yelled, “I said enough!”

Jerome begrudgingly let go of Bruce as the boy ran straight off the stage and to his guardian. He turned and faced Theo, only to be met with a blade to his neck. You stood paralyzed as you watched the scene, your mouth agape and goosebumps raised on your skin.

“I know, I know, this is not what we rehearsed.” Theo whispers to Jerome, sinking down to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Jerome. You have real talent, but now you see, the plot thickens, enter the hero.”

Jerome begins to speak, his mouth and teeth covered in blood. “You.. said..” he tries to take in a breath, but it backfires. “That I was gonna be…” Jerome’s words cut themselves short as his eyes dilate tenfold, that sinister smile permanent on his face. Before he lost the battle between living, his iris flash over to you, taking in one last look before becoming lifeless.

What about the future he wanted? The promise he made to you? He was going to be the King of Gotham with you by his side as the Queen. None of it was an option now. None of it made sense without the man that started it all, that had swore to give you what he convinced you that you wanted. What was the point now?

One of the last things he had said to you replayed in your mind like a broken record, “Promise me somethin’, doll. Never forget me.”

You wouldn’t be able to, even if you tried.

[thewritermj]

cameras flashes, that's how we crashed

battinson!bruce wayne X reader

part 1

summary: on a press conference, bruce finds a journalist who's up to his standards

warnings: usual gotham violence, quick discrimination of a serial killer, not actually smut in this, but in the future so NSFW MDNI

a/n: forgive any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language!!! Bruce lives in the manor instead of the Wayne Towers cuz I like the manor vibe more, also I kinda picture Jim Gordon from the Gotham Tv show, cuz I love that version but it doesn't really matters lol. (nothing said above is useful for this reading but I just thought you should know) also, this takes place one year after the movie

Bruce sat quietly on the car, the ride was awfully short. He wished he had more time to mentally prepare to his first press conference. He was a recluse for most part of his life, but after the scandal about The Gotham Renewal Program, people deserved to know the truth. And the idea of continuing his family legacy of charity and philanthropy wasn’t all bad and kept Alfred out of his nerves for a while.

And even tough Bruce Wayne could crack a fake smile to the cameras, throw charity galas and events, the true help came at night. The only possible salivation Gotham could have, the real way he could help the city was as Vengeance. The Batman. He didn’t think of himself as a hero, or a vigilante, more of a necessary evil; all the violence and anger, the rage and the darkness of his work, his project; people would be outraged if they found out they were the same man.

“We’re here, Mr. Wayne” The driver announced.

Alfred, who as sitting across from Bruce on the limo closed the papers he was reading and smiles softly.

“Ready, master Bruce?”

Bruce sighs.

“Not really”

The car parked inside the underground garage of the Wayne Enterprises, Bruce and Alfred made their way to the elevator, not a word was said.

Bruce stole a glance at his reflection on the mirror. A black suit Alfred picked for him, a W embroidery on its lapel, his hair was short now, shorter than he liked, all slicked back by hair gel, but nothing could hide the dark circles under his eyes or the lack of sun colour on his skin. Sometimes, just sometimes, Bruce wishes he didn’t have to wear normal clothes, to comb his hair, ties his bottoms; he wishes he could live inside the Batsuit. He felt like the suit was his own skin, her armour, him and Batman were on, there was no Bruce Wayne without Vengeance, they were bonded forever and could never be separated from each other. He wish they could, he wish he could be Batman alone; no press conferences, no reports, paparazzi, no “Bruce Wayne crowned prince of Gotham.”

The elevator stops and the door open. Alfred goes our first and greet some people outside, telling them where to go.

“You have 10 minutes, Bruce.” He warns, “I’ll get them stared and you wait here till I call you”

Bruce nods.

He sits down on a leather couch and waits, starring at the glass doors. All the reports and journalists waiting for him, men and women, from Gotham and other places of the world.

He’s nervous. Not nervous like he is before a fight, nervous he will be put on a corner, that he’ll be catch on a lie, nervous someone knows. It’s like someone in the next room it’s just waiting for him to appears, to stand up from their chair and ask ‘Are you the Batman?’

“Ladies and gentleman, Bruce Wayne” Alfred announces from the stage and glances at him.

Bruce works on his better smile he can put on and enters the stage; he’s received with thunderous applauses and blinding cameras flashes. He waves and sit on a chair, in a wooden desk in front of him is a glass of water and a microphone.

“Let’s get, started then” Alfred said, pointing to a woman in a grey dress standing with a microphone in her hand.

“Mr. Wayne, why did you decided to throw a press conference after years of reclusiveness?”

Bruce leans into her direction a bit.

“Well, I think all the events of the past year made me realize how much the Wayne Foundation means to Gotham and I’ve been a little reckless with that matter”

It was a good answer, he thought.

The following questions were easy too, “Mr. Wayne, how do you plan on taking care of the raised money? To prevent anything to happen again”, “What’s the difference between the Wayne Foundation and the Gotham Renewal Program?”, “What projects do you have in mind?”, and of course, some shallow questions, “What brand is your suit?”, “What car do you drive?”, question he almost laughed at. Did people actually wanted to know that?

Bruce was thinking how the conference was going well, easy, almost, not as he had pictured it before. Until…

“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”

He flinched for half a second, he opened his mouth but nothing came out.

Another woman asked something he didn’t quite hear with all that was going on inside his head, but the word Batman was also there. And then another, and another…

“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”

The room turned into a complete circus. Grown adults talking over each other, fighting for a turn on the microphone.

You rolled your eyes. This happens every time, someone thinks about the name Batman and suddenly everyone has something to say. What does it matter Bruce Wayne’s thought of the Batman? There were so much important questions to be asked, so much more to discover about that man’s life and projects than a simple opinion.

You were begging to regret the moment you accepted the offer to come to this conference. You weren’t a regular journalist, you didn’t know how to write an article about the weather, fashion trends, social events, you wrote about thing most journalist didn’t want to, thing that most people were scare to read. People scared of the truth. You weren’t. You would dig and dig until the raw verity came to surface, it didn’t matter where or who you had to dig.

The man who had introduced Mr. Wayne appeared again and announced the press conference. No fucking way, no without the answers you wanted, you didn’t take this job to watch other people ruin it.

Slowly, you got up from your sit and walked towards the person who as holding the microphone and gently pull it away from his hands.

“Mr. Wayne…” but the voices around you were too loud.

You gave the head of the mic a flick, the loud keen sound made the room come silent.

“Sorry.” You apologized. “Mr. Wayne, why did you felt the urge to re-open the school project at the marginalized neighbourhoods of Gotham after your father failed attempted?”   

The men was halfway leaving, but he turned around reluctant, staring right at you. Those piercing blue eyes roaming your face.

“Well, I believe the project needs a second chance. Children and teenagers should be given a chance to have a good education, it helps getting them out of the streets.” He answered, without the microphone his voice was low, but the silence of the room let you hear him loud and clear. “Who do you write for?”

“The Gotham Gazette” You answered proudly.

Mr. Wayne whispered something to the other man and sat back at the chair.

“Do you have any more questions, Miss…?”

You smile politely and told him your name.

“Would you say that the Wayne Foundation has an impact outside of Gotham?”

A ghost of a smile appeared on the man’s lips. You shook the urge to smile back at him.

You could tell he was a bit nervous, but he had answered the questions with manners and the right words, maybe he didn’t notice, but he’s quite good at it.

“Yes. I think the work we do on the Foundation inspires people to do the same. If it works out, we can show the world that if there was hope for Gotham there’s hope for them too”

“Do you think there’s hope for Gotham?” You asked, out of spite, because you didn’t write it down before the press.

His lips contracted to a thin line and he thought of it for a few seconds before answering:

“Yes. As long as people like me and you care about what happens here, there’s still hope for the city”

You smiles.

“People like me?”

“You seem to know a lot about the charity work, and you care enough to show it to the world”

Your smile grew bigger and you felt a hint of warm rushing through your cheeks.

Mr. Wayne answered a few more of your questions before the press conference was over.

You were, oh, so proud of yourself. The information you gathered was perfect for what you had in mind and for sure, you could make it a good article. An admiring of the Wayne legacy, that’s what you called yourself. It has always called out to you what that wealth family did; they had no obligation to do it, to donate not just money, but time and resources to help those who couldn’t have what they did, to make Gotham something to be proud of. It’s a shame they never lived long enough to cure it, to heal it. However, you hoped that, maybe, Bruce did. At least he sound determined to.  

You gathered your things and your purse, but as you made your way to the elevator, a woman dresses on formal clothes approached you with a clean, sharp smile that made her look like a dental paste commercial.

“Excuse me, miss. Would you mind, following me?”

You frowned.

“Ahn…What for?”

“Mr. Wayne wishes to speak to you” She explained and her smile somehow grew wider.

Standing there for a few seconds, all you could do was nod as you followed her through a long corridor. What was happening right now? He wants to speak to you? Bruce Wayne wishes to speak to a journalist in private? And more important, to you.

She opened a door to a breath-taking office.

Right in front of you was a full wall window, a panoramic view of Gotham in all its “glory”, skyscrapers, apartment buildings, the clock tower, the bridge of the river, the field behind the road, you could see everything from up there. There was a wooden desk in front of the window, quite empty, and a chair that looked more comforting than any other you had ever sat.

When the woman closed the door behind you, your attention changed to the man standing on your left. Bruce Wayne was staring at you dead in the eyes with a facial expression of someone who just saw a ghost.

This guy seriously need some sunbathing. You shook that thought out of your head.

“Mr. Wayne. You wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes” His raspy voice responded. “Sit, please”

You took a seat on one of the chairs in front of the chair and he sat opposite of you, behind the desk, diving completely into the velvet chair. He crosses his fingers and stares at you again. It made you a little uncomfortable, he did that a lot, like a hunter watching its prey.

“So…”

“I’ve searched your work. You’re really good.”

“Thank you, sir”

“You won a Pulitzer, am I right?”

“Yes, a few years ago”

When did he get the time to read all this information? It’s not like you’re super famous, even the Pulitzer wasn’t a very known prize if you didn’t know the industry.

“For a book about a serial killer in Detroit” He said, a voice that verged into an interrogation tone. “The Divine Move?”

You blinked a few times.

“I…Yes. Nathan Walters.”

He lifted his eyebrows just an inch, telling you to continue the story.

You cleared your throat.

“He uh, he used to be the altar boy of the neighbourhood church and he chose his victims based on the sins he supposed they’ve committed.” You’ve shorten it, you couldn’t understand why a billionaire was asking you about the modus operandi of a criminal who was thousands of miles away.  “Why are you asking me this, if I may ask, Mr. Wayne?”

“You’re an investigative journalist. Why are you attending press conferences of a random billionaire?”

You supressed a laugh. Random.

“I grew up here, sir. I’ve always admired your family work, I took the opportunity when it was offered to me.”

“You seem to know a lot about my family history.”

“Like I said, I’m just an admiring. Although, I once thought of writing a book about the Wayne Legacy. Your legacy, sir.”

“Your legacy, sir”.

Bruce looked down at his cufflinks, the W prominent on a silvery material.

His legacy.

He once thought the Wayne Foundation was his legacy. But now he knew, his true legacy came in a bat shaped suit and sleepless nights; it came on purple coloured bruises and blood stained clothes.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well…it’s very hard to write about something when you only get superficial information.”

You were nervous, he could tell. You kept staring at the view behind him, or at your shoes, tanking a little too long to answer his questions. He wondered how could a journalist gets nervous, almost shy.

He gave you a puzzled look, not using any words to express his question. But you understood it.

“Using material that was wrote by someone else. All the records and stories about your parents have already been wrote by someone else before me, so I couldn’t say it was my work, could I?”

He hummed.

Bruce took a sigh. Maybe. Maybe this was a good idea, it could keep him in a good status with the press, plus, he’d be able to hide even further down his secret identity, having a journalist with him every day? No one would suspect his the Batman.

“There are stories and details that haven’t been told.”

You bit your lower lip.

He stared at you.

“What are you implying, sir?”

“If I tell you the stories, would you write it?”

“If I tell you the stories, would you write it?”

You almost passed out.

Would you?

Who could say they had a proposal like that? Dig into the secrets of the Wayne family?

“Yes”.

___________________

a/n2: aaaah this is actually so boring I'm so sorry, also I think I made bruce a little more talkative than I would've but anyways I may change it yet.

a special thank you to @preciouslandmermaid for inspiring me to finally write this!! <3