#both he and Batman caught on to the word currently

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

As someone who lived in the middle of nowhere, Amity, the ocean both terrified and enthralled Danny Fenton.

The first time his parents took him to the beach, it was the middle of the day and he’d been stuck in the prototype GAV for hours upon hours on their “quick, ghost rumor hunting field trip.”

It wasn’t quick, and they caught exactly zero ghosts. When Danny saw the expanse of sand underneath the summer sun, he and Jazz both bounded out of the van like feral little monkeys. Danny and Jazz sprinted down the sand, their parents ambling behind them with their arms loaded up with towels, a first aid kit, and an ungodly amount of mildly ecto contaminated food that they already fought before getting onto the beach.

Danny had splashed into the water, yelped at the freezing temperature, and then promptly found a shell to keep. His mom taught him how to swim with the waves, having come from Surf City herself, and his dad taught Jazz how to dive.

It was a day full of fond memories, especially the memory of the Great War of Sand-Castle Crushing he and Jazz waged against each other.

They stuck around for the sunset, the ripples of colors and peacefulness that swept across the vast waters caught Danny in its hold.

He hadn’t forgotten that moment. Not even when he died.

After a particularly hard day as Phantom, Danny would fly to the coast and loose hours just sitting on the sand and watching the waves lap against the shore. And when those nights were clear? It felt like a slice of his own personal heaven, with the stars shining on his shoulders and the encompassing crash of the waves sheltering his heart.

And on some days, when being Danny left him frustrated, Danny would fly out to the coast and use his intangibility to walk beneath the waves. Near the coast, it’s cloudy with swirls of moving sand and disturbed waters. He walked, and walked, and floated and floated beneath the waters, taking contentment from the way the moonlight of his stars filtered through the water. He admired the way light would glint on the scales of fish and crustaceans alike as he floated beneath the surface. On those days, Danny would pick up trash and polluted things and bring them to shore, to place in the trash cans and all of the recycling cans. He picked up shells and decorated the beaches he frequented, because if it were decorated, perhaps people would refrain from chucking their waste into the sea.

Well, usually, it’d be trash.

Danny watched speechlessly, jaw cracked open just a smidge, as an explosion happened right over his head. The distortion of the water did not hide the fact that there were large chunks of plane pelting down at him, a different figure flying away from the explosion. Danny went invisible and intangible as large metal pieces plunged into his current water space.

“Gosh, people these days,” he huffed. “This is gonna take forever to…”

Danny trailed off, seeing a humanoid shape crash into the water, clearly unconscious. Danny didn’t hesitate before shooting towards the drowning person, glowing green and fully visible again. The stranger’s eyes- holy shit, that’s Batman- turned towards him before closing behind cracked open lenses. Batman slumped falling unconscious. That’s not good.

Danny rocketed out of the water with the vigilante in his arms. If it weren’t for his supernatural strength, there’s no way lanky teenage Danny would have been able to carry Batman’s grown ass built like a tank self to the shore. Likewise, if it weren’t for his strength, Danny wouldn’t have been able to start chest compressions through the layers of armor.

Danny leaned back with a sigh as Batman coughed out only a bit of water, because Danny hadn’t taken all that long to get to him, and held up his hands in a “I don’t have weapons” way as Batman whirled to him.

“Hi. Are you alright?” Danny asked, ectoplasm and instinctive ghost speak fuzzing his words a bit. Damn, Batman must have nearly died a lot. He’ll freak out about meeting Batman later.

“You saved me,” an awkward pause. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. The other guy went that way.”

Danny waved vaguely.

“…What are you?”

“Oh my god, Batman, you can’t just ask someone what they are!” He immediately replied, inwardly smacking himself for the joke. He watched Batman’s face, watching for any sign of discrimination against ghosts, or any sign the man had a sense of humor.

“…”

Neither, apparently, was the answer.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to clean up the beaches. You humans really like to pollute the beaches. It’s quite rude, you know. That plane of yours, well, it’s not your fault,” he amended. “But it’s gonna damage sea life. And I don’t know if you’re in the habit, but please don’t litter on the beach or in the water, especially with your unconscious body. It’s tedious to clean.”

“…I see.”

“Stay. I’ll take out your plane. Make sure it doesn’t stay on the sand, alright?”

With that, Danny stood. Unaware of the way the moonlight lit up his hair like white flames and accentuated the sharp points of his ears, Danny turned away and flew back to the plane site, dragging the pieces up with ease.

Batman sat on the sand, likely exhausted from his fight, and watched him carry the pieces of the aircraft up.

“Here. All done. I gotta get going,” because Danny has school and this just lost him two hours. “Will you be alright?”

Batman nodded once, sharply.

“Good.” Danny went invisible, watching Batman sat up straighter, glancing around in a suddenly visible awareness. Oh, well. Tucker’s gonna freak out.

——

Three years later, Danny’s moved to Gotham for university.

And after midterm season, Danny went for a ghostly walk, but this time, in the waters surrounding Gotham.

When he surfaced, Batman was crouching on a lamp post, waiting for him.

“Oh, it’s you,” Danny said. “Hello. Did you know that people are polluting these waters with bodies too?”

“Yes,” Batman said, graveled voice resounding on the shipping containers around them.

“You should do something about that. Do you like places that are polluted?”

Batman sighed. “What are you?”

Danny hears a small, tinny voice by Batman’s ear, coming from a comm.

“Oh my god, B, you can’t just ask someone what they are!”

Mind flashing back to the night Danny drug a waterlogged Batman out of the ocean, Danny cracked a smile.

“Phantom,” he said, decisively. And, because this isn’t Amity anymore, “the Beach Clean Up crew from the flip side.”

——

Bruce, waking up on the sand: wtf

Bruce, seeing a child next to him who probably saved him: wtf (in “adoption”)

Bruce, seeing Danny’s skin glitter like stars, hair aflame, and pointy ears: wtf (in “I can adopt fae folk, right?”)

Bruce, seeing that Danny doesn’t leave any footprints: wtffff (detective mind goes brrrr)

——

Bruce, after Danny leaves: *donates 20 mil towards beach clean up efforts and anti-pollution causes*

——

Bruce’s Goggle Search History, documented by Oracle:

Sea spirits

Sea vampires

How to parent supernatural kids

How to thank your sea child

Are shells a good gift?

Ocean conservation efforts

Sea spirits that glitters under moonlight

Sea spirits that cleans up beaches

Wayne corporation waste disposal

Companies that dump trash into the sea

*outgoing call to Lucius Fox*

What is “mean girls”

——

Bruce, learning “current pop culture” from his kids:

Bruce, remembering the kid who saved him and realizing he’s probably as old as his own kids are: *adoption tendencies intensifies*

[twilight-orchid]

Shower Suprise

Jason Todd x gn pregnant reader

Notes: So, I’m currently fighting a war against baby fever and baby daddy jason makes me feral so I decided to write a self indulgent fic. I’m working on a couple sequel fics so let me know if you enjoyed this and I’ll post the others too. I’m not a great writer and have never written for Jason before, so sorry if it’s shit lmaooo

Part 2

Word count: 1730

Contains cursing, unplanned pregnancy, mention of abortion, talk of adoption

Jason had gotten home a little after 4 am. He’d been patrolling the cold, rainy streets since 11 and Gotham had finally grown quiet. His body ached something awful from the numerous fights he’d gotten into that night, and exhaustion had crept into his bones making him feel like he could fall asleep standing up.

He climbed into the window of the dark apartment silently to avoid waking his lover and got out of his gear in the living room. The sound of clanking metal and ripping zippers tended to get noisy. Once in his briefs alone he slipped into your bedroom, pausing for a moment to watch the rise and fall of your chest with a smile on his face. You slept soundly, your hair a nest around your face and your soft snores like a comforting lullaby to Jason.

He reluctantly made his way to your shared bathroom. He’d love nothing more than to just go to bed, but you didn’t like it when he got into the clean sheets with Gotham’s grime on him. And, to be fair, he was pretty gross some nights. He showered quickly, enjoying the steaming water on his sore muscles, then hastily moved to brush his teeth. However, something odd caught his eye as he spat.

There were balls of what looked like clean tissue wadded up atop the trash, which was strange as he’d just changed it before he left. You didn’t have a cold or anything that would constitute using that much. He furrowed his brow, a weird feeling washing over him. Something white and shiny just barely peeked out from underneath, and he moved the tissue aside to reveal not 1 but 4 pregnancy tests. His heart froze, time seeming to stop around him. Dread built in his gut as he grabbed the sticks, and terror settled in as he picked up one positive after another. Holy shit, y/n was pregnant. He’d gotten you pregnant. Fuck.

Something pleasant stirred in his gut but he squashed it down. His child would be in danger every day having him as their father. If anyone found out about his baby, child of the Red Hood and grandchild of the Batman, they’d instantly have a target on their head. Aside from that, he’d be a terrible father. He was gruff without meaning to, he had a short fuse, and he certainly didn’t have any good role models. All he could think about were the ways he could accidentally fuck them up. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you until you were in the bathroom with him.

He was no longer tired, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he dropped to the floor. Fuck fuck fuck. He couldn’t be a father, he’s Red Hood. He had huge time constraints, anger issues, and most importantly, a lot of blood on his hands. How could those hands, forever stained red, hold something like an innocent newborn in his grasp? A baby, with chunky cheeks and thighs, perhaps with his hair and your eyes.

“Jay?” You asked tentatively. He realized he was hyperventilating. He tried to respond, but he found all he could do is stare at your middle. Your eyes slipped to the floor, taking in the discovered pregnancy tests as he watched your face turn. This is clearly not the reveal you were hoping for. You crouched to his level.

“Jay, can you breathe with me?” He was still lost in his thoughts, buried in his anxiety. But he looked up and met your gaze, your features worried. For him. He closed his eyes and nodded with a shuddering breath.

“Alright babe, in through the nose…. Out through the mouth.” He followed along with you, his hand reaching out. You grabbed it firmly with both of yours without hesitation, running your thumbs along his skin. He usually didn’t like to be touched when he was having episodes, but something about your warmth grounded him. He steadily felt his heart begin to slow down.

You let go with one hand to tenderly cup his cheek, smiling sheepishly at him.

“You’re pregnant.” He said simply. You bit your lip and looked away, but nodded.

“I made an appointment in the morning to get an ultrasound and make sure, but well, 4 positives. Plus, you know how sick and nauseous I’ve been. Emotional, tired, hungry for weird shit…” He cursed under his breath and noted how your shoulders sank. Your hand just barely moved to your belly before you caught yourself, returning it to your side.

“You want the baby.” He stated, though it was more of a question. You sighed in frustration and ran your hand through your hair.

“I don’t know. I don’t feel ready, but I can’t stop picturing a little baby that looks like me and you and I just… I can’t-“ Your resolve crumbled as tears began rolling down your cheeks. He took you into his arms instantly, pulling you onto his lap and letting you bury your head into his neck as you sobbed. He drew circles into your back and whispered reassurances, but his head was spinning.

“I don't know what to do Jay!” You whimpered. He didn’t know either, but he needed to come up with a solution. For you.

A baby. A fucking baby. Bruce would absolutely lose it.

“Well,” he started, his voice calm. He was freaking out, but you didn’t need him a nervous wreck. You needed him strong and steadfast. He took a deep breath.

“There’s allot going on in our heads right now, why don't we break down our options, yeah?” You nodded, still sniffling and sat in his lap to meet his eyes.

“No matter what, I'm not putting a baby in the Gotham foster system. No way.” He started. Gotham had a lot of kids entering its foster system and almost no kids being adopted. Bruce had been trying to help solve the issue for years, but Jason knew if they gave the baby up for adoption, they’d likely have a hard time finding a home. Not to mention the issue still stood that they’d be in danger if their parentage was discovered, except in that scenario Jason wouldn’t even know where they are to help them. You nodded in agreement.

“So that leaves…” you began softly.

“Keeping it or getting rid of it.” He finished. Your lip twisted and fresh tears fell, but you wiped them away.

“I don’t… what do you want to do Jay?”

“It’s your body.”

“And it's your baby.” You responded. That was fair, and he thought about it. There’s no denying it could be dangerous, but there was also no denying that his kid would have the planets greatest protectors on its side. His family would call to arms for his baby in an instant, as would the friends Jason had made through his life. Hell, even the Justice League would defend Bruce’s grand baby. And he wouldn’t repeat his mentor’s mistakes and drag his kid on the rooftops with him. They belonged at home; safe, cared for, and loved. A feeling he reveled in when he was with you. He thought about you holding a toddler in your arms and playing with them, the sound of his child’s laughter echoing through the house. He just knew you would make an amazing parent. Feelings once again rose in his chest, but he didn’t push them down. He let them sit and, once he really thought about it, he kinda wanted to see the little guy live and grow. But ultimately it wasn’t his decision.

“I want what you want.” He finally responded. You groaned in frustration.

“I don’t want you to want what I want Jay. If I say I want it, I don’t want you to agree to make me happy and then feel trapped and then…” you trailed off, looking away from him. He furrowed his brow.

“And then what, leave you? Abandon you to raise my kid on your own? Do you really think I’d do that to you?” His tone sounded almost angry, but he didn’t mean for it to be. He wasn’t mad, he was hurt.

“No, Jay I-“ you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“I just don’t want to make you do something huge like this if it's not what you want. And I don’t want to force you to commit to me like that.” He scoffed at you.

“I think we’re well past worrying about me wanting to commit to you, doll.” You stared at him seemingly unconvinced, your fears and uncertainties visibly rattling around your skull.

He sighed. This wasn’t the circumstance he was hoping for, but his gut said it was time.

“You want to see how fucking serious I am about committing to you? Where the fuck are my jeans?” He gently pushed you off of him and told you to stay. He nearly chuckled at the cute, confused look on your face. He grabbed the pants he'd been wearing before patrol and fished his wallet out of his pocket.

“Look at this shit, I’ve been carrying this around with me for months.” You stared at him with a raised brow, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Out of the cash flap he pulled a small pouch of bubble wrap which produced a beautiful engagement ring. It was your picture-perfect ring; you couldn’t have picked a better one yourself. You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“Jason-“

“No, shut up and listen to me. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone on this god forsaken planet. You are beautiful, and kind, and funny, and so fucking smart. You’ve been there for me at my worst and my best without judgement. You’re one person that I know I can rely on, and I am so proud that you rely on me. I am a lucky fucking man to have you in my life, and if you want this baby I’m with you. And I’ll be the happiest man alive. But if you don’t want it, you don’t. And I’ll be happy with that too. But either way, I love you and I want you to be my one and only for as long as you’ll have me. So, what do you wanna do babe?”

[squippy360]

BratBottom!Bruce Wayne x DomTop!Male reader would be very very hot. I'M IN NEED FOR BRUCEEEE‼️‼️‼️‼️

BratBottom!Bruce Wayne x DomTop!Male Reader

(CW: Overstimulation, degrading, praise, almost getting caught, phone call while having sex, brat taming (?)) Sorry this took so long! I'm trying to write more but I just feel so tired recently.

Being the husband of the billionaire Bruce Wayne, and the secretive hero Batman has been a wild ride for you. You do have some problems with him running off without a word or going on long missions without a call so you have to fix that behavior ;). 

You were currently lovingly (and by lovingly, Bruce means forced) cuddling in bed, your arms wrapped around Bruce's waist and your face shoved in his hair as he huffed quietly now and then, twisting in your grasp only for you to pull him right back. 

"I have to go to work now, love." He whispered, trying again to get out of your strong grasp. 

"Nuh-uh. Don't just think I would let you go after you tried to sneak out without telling me. Again." You smiled back. He huffed softly before trying his luck again. 

You chuckled and looked down, watching him move around more. You smirked softly and leaned down to whisper in his ear. 

"You are being such a fucking brat. Do I need to correct your behavior?" You growled, your cock twitching in your pants as you felt a shiver run up his spine. You pulled his hips flush against yours, your cock rubbing against his ass to extenuate your motive. 

He squirmed more, this time rubbing his hips back slightly before twisting his body to look at you, his hand teasingly running down your body and down to your cock. He kept his smug smirk as his hand caressed your cock teasingly. 

"What are you going to do about it…sir?" He looked up with a smirk. You growled softly and grabbed his arms, getting between his legs and pinning him on his back. He gasped softly, leaving a perfect opening for you to shove your tongue into his mouth. He moaned softly, still squirming. You bit his lip, making him freeze in place. You tied his hands above his head with a nearby belt. His chest was exposed to you and you eagerly sucked, licked, and bit them. You smirked as his cock twitched in arousal. 

You made sure to mark them up until his nipples were sensitive. "Such a pretty little thing~" You smirked. "Not so big and tough now~" you teased. His hazy eyes looked at yours, practically begging you to fuck him till the morning. 

You yanked his underwear down and kissed the tip before slowly lowering your head down. Bruce groaned and moaned loudly, arching his back into you. You held his waist in your hands, squeezing them. You pulled off and took a breath. "God gave you the sluttiest hips and biggest tits in this world~" You whispered dirty things in his ear. 

He gasped at your words, his face turning a deep red. "D-Don't say stuff like that…it's embarrassing." He groaned. You kissed his thigh and reached over for the lube. He watched as you coated your thick cock in lube. You put the bottle down and held his hips up and teased his hole with your cock. "On second thought, I don't think you deserve this. You haven't apologized yet." You teased. He threw his head back in desperation. 

"Beg me, puppy~" you whispered, just barely slipping your tip in to teasing him more. 

"Please…" He whined out. You smirked and slipped your cock inside, pushing his knees to his chest and bottoming out. His eyes rolled back and he let out a long and breathy groan. We both were knocked out of our fantasyland by Bruce's phone ringing. His face turned red and he reached over for his phone, answering it. You rolled my eyes but soon smirked when you thought of something. 

"Yes, Clark?" He said. You hummed and pulled out and slammed into him fully. He bit down on his lip, throwing his head back. 

"Hey, Bruce! You still remember that meeting that's tonight?" Clark chuckled. 

"Go on. Speak~" you whispered in his ear, biting his ear as he shivered. 

"Uhn…y-yEs! I do…" He stuttered, trying to hold in his moans. "Good. Because we're going over the…" You spaced out and mindlessly thrusted into Bruce, your hands pinching and twisting his sensitive nipples. He let out a whine into the sheets and looked up at you with his desperate look, one he only showed to you in private. You smirked and threw his legs over your shoulders, pounding into him relentlessly. His back arched suddenly and he came untouched, his cum splattering across his tummy. You saw him squirm and whimper, trying to keep quiet and pay attention. 

"...Bruce? Bruce? Are you still there?" Clark asked. "Mm hm…" Bruce grunted, fisting the blankets harder and bit into a nearby pillow. 

"Ok! Well, I'll see you soon." He said and hung up. Bruce let out a relieved moan and looked up at you, his hair disheveled and his face red. You could read his thoughts and smirked. 

"Oh you're still going~ As a matter of fact, I'm coming with you~" You said and buried my face in his neck, chasing after my own orgasm. His body twitched under me from overstimulation as he clung onto me. "M/n! M/n! Please!" He sang, his hands begging into your back. You let out a deep groan and bit into his neck, slamming into his hole and cumming inside. You panted and stayed like that for a moment, thrusting occasionally to fuck your cum deeper into him. 

"Let's get ready, my naughty boy~" You said and pulled out. You helped him dress himself and escorted him to his meeting. 

EXTRA: 

All throughout the night, Clark and the other Justice League members were wondering why Bruce was slightly limping and red-faced all night, until it clicked for them when they saw you were standing near him, whispering occasionally into his ear and teasing him with your hands. 

"That's why he sounded so weird on the phone…" Clark stuttered, flustered.

"I wouldn't blame him. His husband looks so hot!" Flash giggled at them. 

The rest of the night went on, spending time with your lovely and bratty boyfriend. 

[antebunny]

a cuckoo in the nest

(Aka the Fae!Tim fic that I decided not to finish and thus am dumping on Tumblr)

The creature that the Unseelie Queen forces on Bruce is disguised as a human child. Worse, it resembles Bruce’s two current children. Skin on the lighter side, lighter than either of his kids, black hair, blue eyes, and a light sweater and sweatpants combination that either Dick or Jason might wear. It is quite the contrast to the wild fey flashing too-bright teeth at Bruce.

“You will welcome it into your home,” the Unseelie Queen commands. “You will treat it as you would your own son. You will do nothing to indicate that it is anything but a human boy.”

One gnarled claw curls around the creature’s shoulder. The creature’s expression remains eerily blank. Another point in favor of its otherworldliness. A normal human child would show some reaction to the Unseelie Queen’s possessive presence. This creature stays perfectly still.

“In return…” the Unseelie Queen crooks one finger of her free hand in a come here motion and a figure stumbles out of the dark trees surrounding their little clearing. 

It is Jason. Injured beyond belief, blue eyes red and weeping. Bruce’s knee jerks, but he forces himself to remain within the small summoning circle. A thin line of salt and iron protecting him from the Unseelie Queen’s unfathomable powers.  

“You get your son back.” She presents Jason to Bruce like she’s selling a prize horse at an auction. One hand on the back of his neck. “Alive and well. As he was before his death. The memory of his death will remain, but dulled. That is my bargain, Batman.”

Bruce is not fool enough to give the Unseelie Queen his real name, nor is he stupid enough to lie to her. Using his nighttime alter ego presents the perfect compromise. Batman is not his real name, nor is it a lie. So it is Batman’s black gauntlets that curl into fists as Bruce considers the Unseelie Queen’s deal. 

It is the height of stupidity to take a creature he does not know the abilities of into Wayne Manor, and pretend it is his son. Given what he knows of the Unseelie Queen, such a creature could cause unfathomable damage to his family, to Gotham. This is a bet of Bruce’s own intelligence against a fey hundreds of times older than Bruce. He could very well end up losing both of his sons this time. 

“B,” Jason sobs. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

But the alternative is to walk away from a chance to have Jason back. This is not the universe where Bruce is capable of such an act. At least with the Unseelie Queen’s bargain, Bruce has a chance to limit any potential harm. Perhaps he can even outsmart the creature and prevent all damage whatsoever. If she had asked him to kill someone, or something more direct, Bruce wouldn’t stand a chance.

Bruce uncurls his fists slowly. “I accept.”

With those two words, both the creature and Jason are invited into the circle. The creature steps forward calmly, Nike sneakers passing over the salt and iron easily. Its arms are flat by its sides, and its head comes up to Bruce’s chest. If it were human, it would be around the same age that Jason was when Bruce caught him stealing the Batmobile’s tires. A blatant attempt at emotional manipulation on the Unseelie Queen’s part. 

Jason is shoved forwards by the Unseelie Queen. He trips over his own feet, but Bruce is there to catch him this time, to gently fold him in his arms and check him over for injuries.  

“I’m getting you home,” Bruce promises. 

And if he has to bring home the Unseelie Queen’s little spy as well to make it happen, then that is a price Bruce is more than willing to pay to have his family whole again.

~

Tim finally has the chance to be part of a family again, and it is the best family he could have imagined. He can scarcely believe his luck as Mr. Wayne–Batman, for now–leads Tim and Jason (who doesn’t look so good) into the Batcave. Tim is so caught up trying not to gape in awe at everything that he misses the hushed conversation that Mr. Wayne has with his butler, and the slightly louder, much longer conversation he has with his eldest son. The original Robin is standing all of five meters away from Tim! He’s going to be Tim’s older brother!

A lifetime ago, when Tim was still fully human, with parents and the last name Drake, he’d been obsessed with Batman and Robin. Had followed them around pitch black rooftops, through the streets buzzing with neon lights and vices, just to get a glimpse of his heroes. Discovered Robin’s true identity shortly before Bruce Wayne adopted Jason Todd, and a new Robin came to roost in Gotham’s skyscrapers. 

Then Janet and Jack Drake gave their only child to the Unseelie Queen in exchange for money and power, and Tim lost his name, and his home, and his entire world. 

 “What is your name?” Mr. Wayne interrupts Tim’s memories. He looms in front of Tim in an empty Batcave. Mr. Pennyworth and both Robins are long gone. It is only Tim, in his ill-fitting human clothes, and Batman. 

Tim knew this question was coming. Mr. Wayne must think that Tim is a human child, and that asking for his name is a simple exchange of pleasantries. He cannot know that Tim is no longer fully human, and his name is no longer free to give or take, nor his own anymore. Luckily, Tim prepared a response. He does not want to lie to Batman, after all, but as much as he wishes he could trust Mr. Wayne with his name, he knows better.

“What do you want to be called?” Mr. Wayne amends, when Tim fails to answer fast enough.

Carefully, Tim purses his lips and whistles. Hoo-ooh. A sharp ho followed by a lower, longer oo sound. The call of a common cuckoo. Hoo-ooh. Hoo-ooh.

Mr. Wayne frowns in response. Tim panics briefly–did he not get the call right? He practiced so much!–and tries again, a little faster. Hoo-ooh, hoo-ooh, hoo-ooh. Please accept me. I know I’m an unwanted interloper, an imposter. Please accept me anyway.

“Do you have a name in English?” Mr. Wayne asks. He repeats the question in a few more languages. Tim recognizes the Spanish and Russian, but he’s not sure what the others are. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Tim nods frantically. He swallows with difficulty, and then whispers: “Tim.” 

It is not a lie, and it is common enough that hopefully Tim can remain anonymous. He is a common cuckoo bird, after all, not even remarkable in his imposition. 

“Well, Tim,” Mr. Wayne says, voice dropping to an ominous growl, “I will uphold my end of the bargain. But do not think for a second that I can be tricked into trusting you. And if you give me even the slightest indication that you intend to hurt a member of my family in any way, I will not hesitate to take you down. Do you understand?”

Tim has not cried in years, not since his parents gave him away. But tonight a peculiar wetness pricks at the corners of his eyes as he nods. “Yes, Mr. Wayne, sir,” he says quickly. “I understand.”

It isn’t as though Mr. Wayne is wrong. Tim is an interloper, here to trick Mr. Wayne and his family into caring about Tim. All Mr. Wayne did was make it clear that he will continue to pretend that Tim is part of his family and that he will not be tricked. There’s no reason for Tim to get emotional about it. 

It’s just that Tim hoped, if just for a moment, that it wouldn’t be pretend.

The Wayne family, aside from Mr. Wayne himself, is very easily tricked. Mr. Pennyworth (“call me Alfred, Master Tim”) lets Tim follow him around even though he won’t let Tim help with chores no matter how much he insists that he can do it. Tim is fine with that, really. For now it is better to be tolerated, if not liked, than not to be tolerated at all. He has noticed that even Mr. Wayne defers to Alfred in household matters, so it is good to have the real head of household somewhat in his corner.

Most days, Tim sits on the kitchen counter while Alfred cooks, and awkwardly attempts to answer questions about his previous life. It is mixed, as far as conversations go. The questions are very stressful for Tim, who is never sure how much he should say, but smelling and eating human food after so long without it still brings tears to his eyes. 

Simmering tomato floats through the air as Alfred adds a pinch of rosemary to his soup. Tim’s mouth waters, and he swallows before talking. 

“I had a really long argument with a rosemary plant, once,” Tim recalls ruefully. “It was dumb. But I was so desperate for human food that I’d’ve said just about anything.”

The rosemary plant refused, in the end. Everyone was too scared of the Unseelie Queen to help Tim. 

Alfred stirs his pot carefully. “You had an argument…with the rosemary plant?” He clarifies neutrally. 

“Yep.” Tim’s legs swing back and forth a bit faster. “I told you, it was really dumb. I would’ve tried with the mushrooms, but they’re mean and scary, really scary. And old.”

Some of the mushrooms are even older than the Unseelie Queen, which makes them even scarier. Except that the Unseelie Queen has Tim’s name, and the mushrooms do not. 

Tim blushes all of a sudden, mindful of his audience. “I didn’t mean being old makes them scary,” he mumbles, furious at himself. He is supposed to be trying to get Alfred to like him, and instead he insults him! What is wrong with him?

“It is quite alright, dear boy,” Alfred says. “I assure you no offense was taken. Now, what is it you were saying about being desperate for human food?”

Mr. Grayson (“call me Dick, everyone else does!”) is the easiest to trick into caring about Tim. He is actually not sure what he did to pull it off. Dick stays at Wayne Manor most weekends, and the first time he comes over, before Tim has a chance to enact any of his thirty-four “Trick Robin Into Liking Me” plans, Dick asks if he wants to get ice cream. Tim accepts eagerly, and Dick smiles so brightly that Tim nearly forgets about Mr. Wayne scowling in the background. After that, Dick always makes a point to seek him out. Tim is pretty sure he makes a bumbling mess of himself every conversation, but somehow Dick keeps laughing it off and taking Tim out for another slightly reckless and exceedingly enjoyable excursion. 

Jason is a bit harder to trick. He is still healing mentally and emotionally from his death, so he’s off-duty as Robin. Since school is out for the summer, this means he spends most of his time curled up in the library. Tim once hovered behind him for hours, trying to work up the courage to start a conversation, when Jason turned and snapped what so aggressively that Tim immediately ran away. 

In general, he is surly, defensive, angry, and reluctant to accept affection from his real family, much less Tim. Eight plans to trick Jason into caring about him are complete failures that end in Tim further earning Jason’s ire. Another fourteen plans are thrown out before Tim can enact them, after the humiliation of the eight failures. 

Eventually, Tim turns to Dick for help. Dick has alluded to a rough start with Jason, which sounds fake to Tim. Dick was Robin, how could anyone not like him? But maybe he can give Tim advice. 

It is a sweltering Saturday in late July when Dick pulls away from Wayne Manor in some type of fancy car with Tim in the co-pilot seat. 

“I need advice,” Tim says nervously as Bristol’s mansions flash by. Tim did his best not to look at the Drakes’ manor. He succeeded in not looking, but he wondered whether his parents started staying in Gotham more often once Tim was gone, and the question won’t leave him alone.

“What’s up?” Dick asks easily. He lazes in the driver’s seat, two fingers on the steering wheel. It is this nonchalance which convinces Tim to go through with his question. 

Tim’s hands tap out some pattern on his forearms and elbows. “How do I get Jason to like me?”

Dick curls his right hand around the wheel and glances at Tim quickly. Tim still struggles reading expressions, so he has absolutely no idea what’s going through Dick’s mind. Maybe he’s thinking that there’s no way that Jason will ever like him. Maybe Dick doesn’t like Tim. Maybe he’s only acting like he cares about Tim because he’s so nice.

“Jason doesn’t…” Dick sighs. “Not like you. He’s just going through a lot right now. On top of the stuff with his birth mother, he also, well, you know.”

“Died,” Tim supplies.

Dick’s shoulders inch towards his ears. Veins in his forearm pop as the hand on the wheel tightens. “Yeah. So, just, give him some time, yeah?” 

But Tim doesn’t have time. He has until the end of the summer, approximately two more months. To the fae the end of summer is not a specific day, but rather a sensation. Decay on the doorsteps, rot in the wind. Hot breezes melting into simmering afternoons. The crisp crackle of a leaf underfoot. 

If he cannot trick every member of the Wayne family into loving him by the end of summer, he must return to the Unseelie Queen, this time forever. That was her bargain. This is Tim’s one chance to escape her. 

Tim looks out his window at the cold, unfeeling mansions and nods miserably. “Okay.”

Jason does not like the new kid. Everything about him is just slightly off. He walks like he’s surprised that his feet come back down. He talks like he’s describing a dream and expects everyone else to understand. He’s constantly watching Jason silently with those eerie, unblinking eyes of his. Despite living in the same house as Batman, Tim is quieter still, always popping up unannounced and thrusting a trinket or a book at Jason. 

This isn’t even getting into the part where Jason knows he died but doesn’t quite remember it and keeps having nightmares he doesn’t understand. He vaguely recalls a forest that wasn’t a forest and a hand that wasn’t a hand, curling around his shoulder. Bruce won’t stop treating Jason like glass and Dick still looks weepy sometimes, but neither will let Jason out as Robin. All three are letting Jason get away with everything except the things he actually wants to do. It’s infuriating. 

In other words, the summer is off to a great start.

“Bets on the new kid,” Jason says. He’s in the middle of making himself peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, because he is the only one that Alfred allows in the kitchen. 

Dick is draped dramatically across the counter, because according to him it’s so tragic how Jason never wants to do anything fun. Jason hit him over the head with a spatula in response. Dick whined about that, so Jason hit him even harder. 

“What are we betting on?” Dick asks.

Jason half-shrugs. “Like…he’s clearly not human. What is he?”

Dick sits up on the counter. “Yeah, he keeps talking about talking to plants.”

“And plants are always a little bigger and shinier after he leaves the room,” Jason adds.

“Maybe he’s got some relation to Ivy,” Dick suggests.

This entire conversation would not be necessary if Bruce would just cough up the answer. But he responds to every question about Tim with some variation of “hmmm” or “I cannot say.” Jason even sucked up his pride and asked Barbara, but she doesn’t know what’s up with the new kid either. Jason suspects that Bruce promised Tim he wouldn’t tell, because–

“Have you seen his reaction to food though?” Jason asks rhetorically. “It’s like he’s so shocked he’s being fed.”

And he lets that hang, because maybe it’s true, and not a joke. 

Dick scratches his chin. “And he says ‘human’ like he’s not one.” 

“Okay.” Jason sets his mixing bowl down on the counter Dick claimed as his seat. “My theory: he’s a metahuman whose parents–or guardians–or whoever was in charge of him–treated as less than human, and he made B promise not to say ‘cause he doesn’t know we ain’t shit like his parents yet.”

“I mean.” Dick scoots off the counter when Jason comes swinging with the baking tray. He attempts to help Jason spread the parchment paper until Jason glares at him. “He thinks you hate him.”

Jason freezes in the middle of scooping a handful of cookie batter into the tray. Guilt curdles, expired milk and broken egg shells, in his stomach. “I don’t.”

“I know.” 

Dick doesn’t mention the part about Jason dying, because he’s ultra sensitive to that sort of thing. Jason has debated making extra jokes about his death just to force Dick to get used to it, but he hasn’t gone through with it. He’s never seen Dick cry like he did when Jason came back. They haven’t talked about it, because Jason is allergic to big emotions and Dick is nothing but an oversized bundle of big emotions. But it lingers in the back of Jason’s mind, everytime Dick pretends that everything is fine. You mourned me. It’s so obvious, said like that. Of course he mourned Jason. But it’s not an experience Jason ever expected to live through.

Not even Jason knows how he came back to life. He suspects Bruce had something to do with it, but Bruce won’t say. The continuous silence from him is driving Jason to insanity where the Joker and dying failed. 

“Fair tidings.” Tim’s head pops up by Jason’s shoulder and he forcibly suppresses a surprised reaction. Another weird-ism of Tim’s: what sort of American kid says fair tidings? “Can I help?”

“No,” Jason snaps immediately, curling one arm around the batter bowl. 

Dick makes a noise, and Jason winces. He didn’t mean to snap at the kid. It’s just that everything about Tim sets off sirens in Jason’s head. And usually by the time Jason is ready to invite the kid in, he’s run off. 

“Fine,” Jason grunts. He shoves the bowl at Tim. “We’re making cookies.” 

 Tim stares at the bowl with owlish eyes, and Jason clamps down on the urge to yell at the kid again. 

“Hey, Timmy,” Dick says faux-casually. “I never asked. You got a last name?”

Tim’s head snaps up. “Why do you want to know?”

Jesus, he sounds one wrong word from breaking into tears. Jason exchanges a glance with Dick, who is taken aback by the uncharacteristic bout of aggression from the weird kid, and reluctantly decides to intervene. 

“It’s ‘cause we wanna get to know the baby bro better,” Jason says gruffly. “Ya know. Bondin’ and shhhh, uh, stuff.” 

Tim’s blue eyes widen into twin moons. “You want to be my big brother?”

The naked hope in his voice is really not helping with Jason’s guilt. 

“Yeah.” Jason throws down a few more lumps of cookie dough a bit more forcefully than required. “Ain’t no way B is returning you to the kid store.”

Actually, he’s only seen Bruce interact with Tim once, and it was super awkward. But he’s pretty confident that Bruce wouldn’t take in a kid if he didn’t want that kid to be his kid. 

Dick is smiling dopily, so Jason is pretty sure he said enough right words in the right order. “So?” Dick prompts. “Got a last name, baby bird?”

Tim’s hands float to his elbows and start tapping out an unknown pattern. “It’s, uh. Drake.”

“Tim Drake,” Jason tests out, and neither he nor Dick miss the way that Tim does his best impression of a wooden plank at the sound of his name. “Why does that sound familiar?”

“Dunno.” Dick snaps his fingers and points at Tim. “Wait! You’re our neighbor!”

Tim gives Dick his weird blank stare, so Dick points at Jason instead. “The Drakes are our neighbors,” he explains. “The parents were always out of the country for vacation or something, but I remember they had a little kid tag along with them once or twice. What happened?”

“Bruh.” Jason shoves the tray in the oven with his bare hands, because he isn’t a wuss and he’s also not stupid enough to touch the burning hot metal with bare hands. “They supervillains or something?”

Tim shakes his head. His hands press flat against his legs. “They sold me.”

He says it so flatly that Jason exchanges another look with Dick just to make sure he heard right. But Dick’s jaw drops in outrage, so clearly they heard the same thing.

“How? When? To who?” Dick’s eyes narrow. He’s dropping into protective big brother mode. Jason has had the dubious pleasure of experiencing it first-hand a few times. “Does B know about this?”

But Tim shakes his head again. “I can’t say.”

“Are they threatening you?” Jason jumps in, pretending his tone isn’t leaning in the same big brother direction as Dick’s is. “You know B has Supes on speed-dial, right? Ain’t no one in the world who can get away with threatening you now that B’s got you.”

Tim shakes his head a third time, and Jason really has no idea if Tim actually means no or if he’s just moving his head. 

Dick and Jason exchange another worried look, but this time Jason isn’t sure what Dick is thinking. Mostly because Tim just gave them about a thousand more questions in the process of answering one. 

[hollandorks]

in flames

battisnon! bruce wayne x CEO! vigilante! reader

summary: The reader encounters the Batman when stealing information from a murdered man one night. The next day at a meeting to merge her business with Wayne Enterprises, she meets Bruce Wayne for the first time--and he has a cut on his face exactly like the one she gave the Batman. When sparks fly, will they go down in flames?

a/n: look it's me back with another "oneshot" in which I'm too long winded! This one's smutty and full of banter--enjoy! (and yes I do have to use this gif whenever there's something sexy in the content oops)

***not affiliated with middle of the night***

*content is NSFW. 18+*

word count: 10,497

The window opened with barely a creak. Y/n slipped through carefully, quietly, every one of her senses on high alert. 

Getting caught at an active crime scene would be a terrible look for her company, to say the least. Especially the night before a huge meeting about a potential merger. 

But that part of her that had always existed–the part that fought against injustice, no matter how big or small, the part that used her position in life for good–wouldn’t let this rest. 

A man had been murdered, after all. 

A man who was a murderer himself. A man who hurt people, repeatedly, for his own gain. 

She left the window open the barest crack in case she needed to make a quick getaway, but  still closed enough that it didn’t look like it had been tampered with. She’d learned that lesson the hard way over the years she’d been doing this. 

She waited a beat in the silence of the night to make sure nothing was stirring. 

The penthouse apartment was utterly quiet. 

She knew from a couple of hours of observation that there was only one cop posted outside the apartment door and another in the lobby. She guessed they hadn’t expected anyone to come in from the roof. And hadn’t that been how the Riddler had gotten in to kill the mayor the year before? GCPD were never going to learn. 

Y/n bit back a sigh. A year, and things in Gotham were still shit. 

Well, she was working on that. Not only did she shore up charitable donations in the city, but she also had taken notes from the Batman and decided to take matters into her own hands–in secret of course. She did good work with her money and her company by day, and a different sort of work by night in disguise. 

While she didn’t have the gadgets or physical strength like Batman did, she had her own set of skills. Namely, plenty of friends in places both low and high, willing to help her out because they all owed her favors. She dealt in secrets, and secrets were what led to real change in the city.

Not violence. Not death. Not even good, old-fashioned police work. 

Secrets from the right person leveraged in the right way wrought change with little effort.

And secrets were what she was currently after. 

The man who’d been murdered–a former city councilman who had just announced his run for Senate and his plan to eventually run for president–was scum just like all the powerful people the Riddler had murdered a year before. 

Y/n didn’t condone murder, but she did believe in bringing the darkness into the light. That part of the Riddler’s manifesto, at least, she could get behind. As fucking crazy as the guy was, she really couldn’t blame him for wanting to correct some of the shitstorm that was the city of Gotham. His methods had been all wrong, though. She didn’t hurt anybody. She merely told the truth about them. 

It was pure chance that her target had been murdered. There had been a string of robberies in the upper class neighborhood–and this time, the apartment hadn’t been empty as expected. The thieves had killed him in their surprise. It had always been her plan to rob the man, just not his valuables. She was after his secrets so she could expose him and ruin his political career. 

Now one man was dead and the thief turned murderer was in a jail cell. The city was lauding one and villainizing the other. But they didn’t know what she knew, what she was seeking to reveal to the city at large. 

Y/n knew the truth. Not only was the Senate campaign paid for with all kinds of dirty money, but that money had also been stolen from all kinds of charities–several of which y/n was directly involved with and one she had started herself. 

Even if she hadn’t been involved in the aforementioned charities, her blood would have curdled at every other secret this former councilman had hidden. The skeletons in his closet were overflowing, all clambering over each other, multiplying the more she dug. 

And apparently, the man was old fashioned and had several paper copies of his nefarious dealings hidden in a personal safe. The police had checked the other safe, the one the thief had been trying to get into when he shot the former councilman. All along there had been another, smaller, much more important safe underneath the man’s desk. 

It was this safe y/n aimed for. 

She bent underneath the desk and got to work picking the lock. 

It took nearly ten minutes, not her best work, but finally the damn thing opened with a soft click. Sadly, her informant hadn’t known the code, but y/n was adept at safe cracking and lock picking.

Every hair on the back of her neck rose. 

It was instinct born of her nightly activities, or it was the soft movement of air as someone snuck through the apartment, or maybe it was the barest sound of a shoe against the hardwood. Somehow, she very suddenly knew she wasn’t alone.

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She whirled and threw one of the many knives on her at the person sneaking up behind her. The aim was to scare, not to kill. In the same moment, she grabbed everything from the hidden safe and tucked it under her arm. 

The knife nicked the side of the Batman’s jaw as he easily stepped out of the way. 

Shit, she thought, because she had expected another thief or maybe a cop. And he was close, closer than she’d expected. 

She hadn’t expected Gotham’s favorite vigilante to be right behind. 

The Batman didn’t hesitate either. He darted forward so fast she barely saw more than a blur of shadow. With a curse out loud this time, she dodged, hip banging painfully against the corner of the desk as she moved out of the way. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” she said in a low voice.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” the masked man said. They were both keeping as quiet as possible. She didn’t think either of them would want the cop outside knowing someone had broken into the apartment. 

He lunged. She ducked under his arm and kicked at the back of his knee. He grunted but didn’t go down. She frowned but had no time to alter course before his hand grabbed her upper arm and yanked. All of the papers she’d taken scattered across the floor. 

Y/n chopped at his elbow, hand stinging as it connected to whatever his armor was made out of. 

“Ow,” she muttered as she tried to release herself from his tight grip. Damn, he was strong. She aimed a kick towards his balls but his free hand caught her ankle. Now he had her arm and her leg. She bared her teeth at him and forced herself closer to take him off guard. He wasn’t easily fooled, though, and only held her tighter. 

“I’m not stealing, you fucker,” she hissed. Her chest pressed up against the hard planes of armor. Batman stared down at her, eyes almost blank underneath the mask. He was taller and broader than her, and showed no signs of his grip lessening. 

“Then why did you take papers out of that safe?” he asked in a gravelly baritone that made her shiver. She hadn’t realized that the Batman was…kind of hot. 

“Take a look at them and you’ll see why.” She wriggled again but he didn’t let go. 

He stared down at her for a long moment. Finally, he moved enough to bend over and gather up the papers with one hand. His other hand still had her by the wrist. 

“I’m not going to run,” she said with an annoyed sigh. “I’m doing what you do–fixing corruption.” 

The vigilante straightened and glanced at the topmost paper in his hand. He frowned. 

“Is this all true?” 

She craned her neck to see what, exactly, he was looking at. 

“Yes, it’s all true.” She gave up trying to get out of his hold. He was too strong, too fast. “That’s all I was after. I have a contact at GC1 news I was going to send it to. Make it public that this guy was a piece of shit who’s better off dead.” 

Batman simply stared at her. The cut across his jaw was shallow but bleeding steadily. 

“Then why break in?” he finally asked. 

“Why’d you break in?” she countered. His grip loosened slightly. She silently began to count down. She didn’t want this asshole taking her hard-earned information to the police or anyone else. She wanted it public and she needed the papers in his gloved hands in order to do so. 

“I’m investigating,” he said with a slight narrowing of his eyes. “And catching thieves.” 

“I’m not a thief!” 

She used his distraction to yank her hand back, grab the papers, and dart away. 

Batman caught her by the suit at the scruff of her neck. 

Rage welled up inside y/n and she struck out with her leg. In the same movement she twisted to face him. Her foot connected with his chest. He barely moved. He didn’t make a sound, either, as if she was simply an insect bothering him. 

“If you’re not a thief,” he said while blocking the blow from her fist. She kept backing up towards the window she’d left cracked, even as they exchanged a flurry of blows. “Then why did you break in? Why did you throw a knife?” 

She almost winced. “You snuck up on me, okay? You were closer than I thought. I wasn’t aiming to hit you.” 

“But you were aiming to steal.” Again, he caught her by the ankle as she tried to kick him. She growled as she was forced to hop on her other foot to remain balanced. 

“Yes, we went over this. Nothing else nefarious is going on.” She crossed her heart with her free hand for emphasis. 

Quicker than she thought possible, the Batman released her foot. It knocked her off balance and she stumbled. 

He pulled off her mask. 

Her heart stopped. She froze, panting heavily from their little bit of sparring, and stared at him in fear. 

“Don’t–” she said, but no other words would come. 

“I’m keeping this,” he said as he held up the mask. “Do what you want with those papers. Then stop breaking into places.” 

He had her mask. He was looking her dead in the eyes. She might not have been easily recognizable like other wealthy CEOs in Gotham, but if her merger with Wayne Enterprises went through the next day…her picture would be everywhere. And then he’d know who she was. 

She half-snarled and darted towards her mask. The Batman easily kept it out of her reach. 

“Give it back!” she said in a voice that was much too loud. 

They both froze as the apartment door clicked–a key in the lock. 

Shit, the cop was coming to check on them. 

She and the Batman exchanged a glance. 

Her mind tripped over itself trying to get past her fight, flight, or freeze instincts all warring for attention. She needed her mask, but if she got caught…it was over. 

Fuck it, she had to leave the mask. 

“Fucker,” she mumbled to the other vigilante as she fled for the window. He didn’t stop her. 

As she closed it behind her, she chanced a glance in the window. The Batman was gone. A cop was walking through, shining his flashlight over every shadow. 

Y/n stared for a beat longer. 

Then she scrambled up to the roof to grab her things and run like hell. 

First she had information to leak to the press. Then she had a board meeting to prepare for. At least she had the files now. 

She could get revenge against that asshole vigilante some other time. 

–

Y/n dressed carefully for her meeting the next morning. It never hurt to dress to impress, she reasoned. She needed to look strong, capable, but not dowdy. Men were simple creatures and she figured Bruce Wayne was no different. If she could impress him, the merger would go through. 

Her pantsuit was simple and black, tailored to perfectly accent her body. Underneath she wore a red silk shirt–red for power, red for purpose. Red to match her favorite lipstick. 

The news played in the background as she finished her makeup and hair. The information she’d given the news was already everywhere. She tried not to feel too smug, but it was hard. She’d taken that bastard’s reputation down, sent it to hell where it and he belonged. And now investigations were starting–investigations that would hopefully help the people he wronged. That would give money back to the charities and families he had stolen from. 

She was so focused on her triumph that she didn’t have time to be angry at the asshole vigilante who’d stolen her mask. She could get another one made–but it would take a while. It was custom made, bulletproof and made to perfectly fit her face. Maybe this time she’d request it hook to her suit, too, that way it wouldn’t be so easy to steal next time. 

She and her team were the first ones in the boardroom at Wayne Enterprises. They were early, but only by a few minutes. She shuffled her papers quietly and pulled up the current contract on her laptop. They would be discussing terms in that meeting and hopefully everyone would win. In another tab she had cost and profit projections in neat little graphs. 

Merging with Wayne Enterprises was going to change her life. Her business would thrive even more, have more reach, be able to give more to charity. She knew Bruce Wayne liked charitable giving–his parents had been philanthropists and he had started a relief. She had made sure to include all this in her pros and cons list that she’d emailed the Wayne CEO at the beginning of the merger talks. 

“Good morning,” said a member of the Wayne Enterprises board from the doorway. She and her team stood and started shaking hands. 

Bruce Wayne was the last one in the door. He didn’t shake anyone’s hand, merely went to the opposite end of the conference table from y/n. 

As they all sat, Bruce Wayne looked up and met her gaze. 

They both startled. 

Recognition flitted across his face before he could hide it. 

Her own mouth parted in shock. 

Bruce Wayne had a long cut across one side of his jaw. A cut that perfectly matched the one she’d given a certain vigilante the night before.

Bruce Wayne was the Batman. 

–

“–not saying that we shouldn’t, but after all the bad luck with the Riddler last year–” 

Bruce Wayne interrupted y/n with a growl in his voice. “Bad luck? Bad luck? He’s a psychopath who murdered people and blew up half the city! It’s not–” 

“You know what I meant!” she shot right back. 

There had been a moment, at the beginning of the meeting, where everyone was introduced and the terms of the contract were read aloud and y/n and Bruce had simply stared at each other. The moment stretched into silence, and all she could think was, Holy fucking shit. 

Bruce Wayne was the Batman. 

It had devolved from there. 

Bruce had immediately shot down several of the terms she had insisted on, which pissed her off. Her rebuttal had been appropriately angry, which had pissed him off. Every beat of her heart had her more and more worried he’d reveal her identity and she’d be fired on the spot. 

After half an hour, they’d argued about several things, and she finally started to stop worrying about him outing her. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t piss her off with every word out of his mouth. 

Now, here they were, half-shouting at each other from across the long table, both of them the only ones standing. Bruce had his hands flat on the table as he shot daggers at her with his eyes and his words. She stood with a hand on her hip, just as angry as she was. 

The worst part was, they’d been using an intermediary to even draft the contract they were there to discuss. And now he suddenly had a bunch of issues with it? It was in his fucking favor. 

There was a soft clearing of a throat that shut them both up mid bickering. 

“I think we should table this for the day,” said the intermediary. She was pretty sure he wasn’t there to act as a literal mediator. “We can reconvene at the same time tomorrow. Why don’t we have both sides draw up new proposals in the meantime.” 

Everyone was staring at them, at their behavior, and it only served to piss her off more. 

“Well I’m okay with getting this finished today,” y/n said petulantly. She glared at Bruce Wayne. 

“Let’s table it,” he said as he glared right back. She had a feeling that he was only saying that to disagree with her, not because he actually thought it was a bad idea. 

She ground her teeth together so hard she was pretty sure the whole table could hear it. “Fine, same time tomorrow.” 

She was too angry to feel embarrassed at her squabbling with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises like two rival schoolchildren. Not only had this fucker taken her mask, but he also was trying to fuck her with her company too. All this work she’d put into the contract, into the merger, and he was blowing it off like it was nothing.

She stormed out of the room without another word, headed straight for the elevator, and muttered curse words under her breath the entire way. It didn’t help her feel better, but she had to blow off some of the steam rising in her somehow or she was going to burst into angry flames and take down the whole building, his apartments included.

Inside the elevator, she took a deep breath. She’d have to rewrite the entire contract, which would probably take all night. The only thing that made her feel better was that Bruce Wayne had to do the same thing if he wanted any of his terms put up for consideration. 

She imagined him in his full Batman costume pouring over the contracts and snorted to herself. Of course, he probably just had someone do it for him and send it to him to review, but the mental image cheered her slightly. 

As if her thoughts had conjured him, a hand caught the closing elevator doors, and in stepped Bruce Wayne. 

The doors slid closed beside them. 

Y/n had to bite her lip to keep from making a rude comment. There were several of them warring to get out at once. 

“Mr. Wayne,” she said instead, but she let all of the built up anger and venom come through her words. 

He put his hands in his suit pockets and sighed. She had to admit, even as mad as he made her, he looked damn good. He was wearing a tailored dark blue suit that made his blue eyes pop. His long, dark hair was tousled as if he’d woken up right before coming to the meeting. He was tall, his shoulders broad, and his damn jawline was so sharp it looked like it had cut itself with the damage her knife had inflicted. And the cut along the jaw just made it worse–he looked mysterious, handsome, like he was full of secrets waiting to be discovered. Which, she guessed, he was. 

He stared down at her, back ramrod straight, and seemed to grow in the small space. He reached a hand out and without looking hit a button that made the elevator stop. 

She simply waited. She was pretty sure she knew what was coming. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. 

Bruce leaned in very close–close enough that she could smell whatever fresh scent of shampoo or deodorant he used. It was a masculine scent that made her pulse jump as he got close enough for her to feel his breath. 

“If you tell anyone,” he said in a voice that definitely dredged up all sorts of images of darkness and shadows and bat wings. It also made her think of silk sheets and shadowy beds. 

Feeling bold, y/n stepped closer. Their chests brushed now. “Is this a threat, Mr. Wayne?” 

Something flashed in his eyes and her traitorous body decided to get really, really turned on. His jaw clenched so tightly she expected to hear an audible snap. She could practically see his internal struggle not to be an asshole and it made her want to laugh. It was almost too easy to rile him up. 

He took a step back, expression suddenly vulnerable. “It would be…very bad for me, and those close to me…if you told anyone. So, please. Just don’t–please.” 

She softened a little. She hadn’t expected the please. “Hey, I’ve got a big secret too, remember? I won’t tell.” He gave a single sharp nod. “I want my mask back,” she added. 

“No,” he said as he leaned against the elevator wall. She could see their reflections in the shiny metallic ceiling. He was a blur of dark blue, she a pop of red. Opposites, of course.

“Why the fuck not?” she asked. She crossed her arms again. The softness she’d felt towards him was completely gone just like that. 

Bruce straightened and got into her space again. Granted, it might not have been on purpose since he was so tall and the elevator was small. He lowered his voice, eyes flickering to her red lips, and said, “To keep you out of trouble.” 

Y/n had no excuse for what happened next. As if possessed, she matched his step forward and let her hand slide up his chest to his shoulder. He swallowed hard, seemingly nervous. 

“I can get into all kinds of trouble without the mask,” she murmured. Her eyes traced his lips this time. 

And maybe it was because he was handsome and he was there. Maybe it was because they shared so many similarities. Or maybe she wanted to one up him somehow, and knew this would do the trick. 

No matter the reason, y/n stretched up and captured Bruce Wayne’s mouth with her own. 

He froze for a second, going unnaturally still, before he seemed to shake it off. 

She couldn’t help the small groan that escaped when his tongue traced her bottom lip or the one that slipped out when he grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. One of her hands slipped inside his suit jacket while the other tangled in his hair. He groaned this time, and it went straight through her like a meteor, lighting her on fire as it went. 

Her back bumped against the cold elevator wall, the railing digging into her, and she let herself be lifted so her ass sat on top of it. It was barely big enough to balance on, but provided enough leverage for Bruce to slide between her legs. She could feel his arousal press against her, right where she wanted him, and she couldn’t help the small shift of her hips. 

Bruce grabbed her tighter. 

She bit his lower lip and grinned when he jerked back. 

“That was for being a jerk earlier,” she said. 

He stared down at her. His dark hair was mussed. The blackness of his pupils had almost overtaken the bright blue. 

Y/n lifted her hips to grind against him. His breath shook, eyelids fluttering closed. He felt so good against her like this, warm and strong and solid. 

But then he let go and stepped away from her. He straightened his suit and wiped her lipstick off of his own mouth. 

“Was it something I said?” she asked, teasing to cover up the hurt that was stinging through her like small thorns. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. He jabbed the same button from earlier and the elevator lurched into motion once more. 

She frowned at him. He didn’t bother looking at her. “So you’re going to leave me and my business high and dry?” 

No answer. She scoffed. “And here I thought you were different from the typical rich man.” 

His shoulders stiffened but he still didn’t say a word. Above their heads, the elevator counted down as they slowly got closer and closer to the ground floor. 

“Don’t you live in the penthouse?” she asked with another frown, distracted from her annoyance by the descending numbers. 

“Yes,” he said, but didn’t elaborate. 

“Then let’s go up there so you can give me my damn mask back.”

The elevator dinged as they reached the lobby. 

“No,” he said over his shoulder as he stepped out. 

She watched him stride away on impossibly long legs. 

“Fuck,” she said, half annoyed with him, half with herself. She wanted to chase after him and slap some sense into him. Or chase after him and kiss him again. Her whole body tingled from the adrenaline of their meeting followed by quite possibly the best kiss she’d ever had. 

And he still wouldn’t give her damn mask back. 

With another soft growl of frustration, she stepped out of the elevator. She had no choice but to head home and start working on the damn contract. That, and she had to order a replacement mask. Hopefully her supplier still had her measurements on file. 

– 

The next morning, y/n decided to do something stupid. 

She left two hours early for their makeup merger meeting and stopped at the reception desk with her most winning smile. 

“Good morning,” she said brightly. “They messed up my order this morning so I have an extra latte. Do you want it?” 

“Oh–Yeah, sure, thanks. I was running late this morning so I haven’t had time to get coffee,” the young girl said. She took the proffered coffee and inhaled deeply with a soft sound of appreciation. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it was free.” She smiled again. It definitely hadn’t been free and was, in fact, part of her stupid plan. “I’m just heading up to see Mr. Wayne. He forgot to give me the code to get up there. I don’t think he’s awake yet.” She winked and laughed. “We’re going over this merger contract some more before we bring all the big boys in on it.” 

She waved a file folder in the air. It was a copy of her amended contract, to be fair. And she did want to talk to Bruce about it. But she also wanted to maybe snoop around and get her mask back and maybe also find out where he hid his Batman armor. 

“Sure, no problem,” the receptionist said cheerfully. She scribbled a note with one hand and sipped her coffee with the other. Y/n relaxed. She thought for sure she’d be told a very firm no. She’d imagined Bruce being summoned from the top of the tower to come curse her out in front of all of his employees. She supposed being a CEO in her own right made it easier to get into a forbidden space. Hell, this girl probably thought she and Bruce were going to go over the contract naked. 

And wasn’t that an idea. 

Y/n thanked the girl and practically skipped to the private elevator she was directed to. It gave her no small amount of joy to get one up on Bruce again. She spent the whole long ride up to the penthouse smiling as she imagined the look on his face when she interrupted his breakfast. 

She knew it was stupid–really, she did. The merger was tentative now because of their show in the boardroom and she was sure their kiss hadn’t helped matters at all. 

She didn’t stop and question why she was doing this or what she hoped to get out of it. Mostly she wanted to bother Bruce, get her mask back, and maybe, hopefully iron out some of the kinks in the merger plan. She had a feeling they would both be better without an audience. 

The elevator made no noise as it slid to a stop and opened its doors. 

Y/n stopped in her tracks. 

Wayne Tower’s penthouse was…like the inside of a gothic church. The ceilings were tall and sweeping, full of detailed arches, sculptures, and well, a lot of dust. 

“Hello,” said a soft, accented voice. She turned and saw an aging man with a cane, his salt and pepper hair styled perfectly neat, his clothes pressed and clean. “Is Mr. Wayne…expecting you?” 

She didn’t miss the way his hand strayed to his side and the telltale bulge underneath his shirt. He was armed. His expression was polite, kind even, but there was a glint in his eyes that said he meant business. 

She held up her trusty file folder. “I came to go over some stuff about the merger. I’m y/n. I don’t know if he told you about uh…our argument in the meeting yesterday, so I’m here to apologize and smooth things over.” She shrugged as if sheepish. 

“The day you apologize is the day my father becomes mayor,” said a familiar voice. 

She turned, and there was Bruce. He was dressed in dark sweatpants and nothing else, running a towel over his damp hair. She hated that her entire body reacted to the sight of him shirtless. He was muscular. Scarred, too, but it made sense with his nightly activities. 

Her mouth was too dry to talk. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “Well, you better get out the confetti because I really am here to say I’m sorry.” Okay, maybe it hadn’t actually been part of her plan but…she could say two little words in exchange for saving the merger. 

Bruce and the older man exchanged a look. Bruce made a dismissive wave. The man nodded once and disappeared down a hallway. 

They stared at each other in silence. Bruce slung the towel over one bare shoulder. She tried not to stare, she really did, but it was next to impossible. God, did he have to be so fucking good looking on top of everything else? 

“How’d you get in here?” Bruce finally asked. He crossed his arms, which only served to show off his biceps and pectorals. 

Stop staring! y/n mentally shouted at herself. She tore her eyes away and met his gaze. 

“I flirted with the receptionist,” she said. She was rewarded with Bruce’s shock. He opened and then abruptly closed his mouth before he schooled his expression. 

“Poor Stella,” he said after a beat. 

She couldn’t help her laugh. “I bought her coffee and told her the truth. I came to talk about the contract. And…okay, maybe I wasn’t going to apologize, but I did intend to smooth things over. That counts for something, right?” 

Bruce’s lips compressed like he was trying not to smile. “I should have let Alfred shoot you.” 

She let out a startled laugh. “I did sneak into your home, so…” 

“Well, come on then,” Bruce said, gesturing for her to follow him. 

“Where are we going?” she asked uncertainly. 

“We’re going to have breakfast and go over the damn contract.” 

“And you’re going to give in to all of my demands and grovel at my feet, right?” she said to his unfairly muscled back. 

He turned his head just enough that she could see his arched eyebrow. 

“Hey, it was worth a shot.” 

Breakfast went well, at first. She and Bruce joked together like they were old friends as they ate. He told her about the time he’d snuck out on break from college and had tried to sneak back in, only for Alfred to catch him and threaten to shoot him. 

Then the talk shifted to business, and they started arguing all over again. She shouldn’t have brought up the controversial Renewal Fund, she knew that, but it had been an accident. An accident that pissed Bruce off, apparently. 

“I’m just saying that we should have more checks and balances,” she said through gritted teeth as Alfred cleared their plates. He was Bruce’s butler, apparently, though he seemed more like an uncle or something. 

“I don’t disagree,” Bruce said. He rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb. 

“You are literally disagreeing!” She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. 

“Not about that!” 

“Then what? That the Renewal Fund wasn’t used to fund the corrupt? That it wasn’t an absolute shit show?” She tapped her pointer finger on the table with every other word. 

Bruce stared at her. “All of that is true.” 

“You are so–” She made a frustrated noise. “So fucking annoying!” 

“If you would listen to me for a moment, maybe you wouldn’t get so frustrated.” He glared at her between his fingers as he continued rubbing at what was apparently a massive headache caused by her. 

“I am listening! I don’t–I mean, come on, you run around dressed as a bat every night to try and make a goddamn difference in the city. And now suddenly your morals change?” She smacked her hand against the wood table so hard it hurt. “Of course I’m frustrated.” 

Bruce’s gaze went flat. “That has no bearing on what I do in my company,” he finally said after a long pause. 

She inhaled deeply. “Shouldn’t it, though?” 

“What are you saying?” Both of his palms were pressed flat on the table. Every line of him was rigid as if he were about to snap. 

“Jesus, if you’d chill for a second,” she muttered, then straightened. “I’m saying that my company is charitable. That’s one of our core values. We hire the underprivileged, we give back to the community, we work to build up Gotham brick by brick. And what does Wayne Enterprises do? Give to charity once or twice a year? Sometimes help with relief funds where there’s a flood caused by a psychopath?” 

“You’re saying you don’t think this will work because I’m not charitable enough?” Disbelief colored his tone even though his face remained carefully neutral. His nostrils flared though as he breathed in deep and let it out, the only sign she was truly getting under his skin. “Because I shut down the Renewal Fund?” 

“I know what you do every night. I commend it. It’s–actually pretty fucking amazing. But that’s only one thing. Bruce Wayne, CEO, can do…so much more in the light of day. Why do you think I do both, too? So all I’m saying is, maybe if we join forces….we can really make a change. At night and during the day. You understand?” 

Bruce stood abruptly and started pacing. “You shouldn’t be doing that kind of stuff.” 

“Neither should you,” she said dryly. “And that’s not stopping you.” 

Bruce paused in his pacing. He opened his mouth but she interrupted, her annoyance rising all over again. 

“I swear if you say it’s different for you, I’ll punch you so hard you’ll forget your name.” 

He closed his mouth again. 

“Seriously,” she said. She stood to better face him. “You’ve got some kind of weird savior complex going on and it’s getting on my nerves.” 

He raised one dark eyebrow. “Savior complex?” 

“Yes!” She resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a child. 

“And you’re qualified to comment on this after–” He pretended to check a watch he wasn’t wearing. “Only knowing me for about thirty-two hours?” 

“You’re not as much of a mystery as you like to think, Mr. Wayne. You run around every night and yes, you do plenty for the city. But you think you have to do it alone. I don’t know if it’s because you think you’re better than anyone else or what, but newsflash–other people want to help Gotham too.” She crossed her arms again and stared him down. His eyes narrowed. “Other people can help Gotham.” 

“It’s dangerous,” he finally said after a long minute of glaring at each other. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” she said. She couldn’t help the roll of her eyes that went along with the words. “I’m not hurting anyone. Hell, I usually wait until places are empty to steal information. That’s what I deal with–secrets and information. I’m barely in danger.”

“How do I know you won’t steal information from me?”

She grit her teeth. “Are you doing anything illegal? Other than, you know, being a vigilante, I mean. I don’t care about that.” 

“No.” His jaw flexed and he looked away. 

“Then what the fuck is your problem?” She’d been doing so well at squashing the annoyance that kept rising within her. “Are you just trying to be an asshole? You lose nothing with this merger, don’t you get that? All I’m asking is for you to use your fucking money for good. You know, I bet your dad would be so disappointed that–” 

“Get out.” The words were a growl. All at once something in him shifted and she saw a shadow of a cape and mask. Something in him was all predator now. 

She hesitated. She hadn’t meant to actually piss him off. “Bruce–”

“Get. Out.” He pointed a single, threatening finger. He seemed to loom even larger, his body taking up twice the amount of space with its anger. 

“I just meant that–” 

He took a step forward and damn it if she didn’t feel a small jolt of fear. She scrambled to grab her stuff.

“The meeting is canceled,” he said in a calmer voice. “Now get out.” 

“You’re canceling?” She paused in the process of gathering her things. “No way. I’m going to talk to your board about canceling the merger, I–” 

“Not the merger, just the meeting.” Without another word, Bruce turned and left. She imagined a shadow following him, a physical manifestation of his anger. Somewhere, a door slammed. 

Grinding her teeth, y/n grabbed all of her stuff and stomped back to the elevator. “Stupid, stubborn, asshole of a man,” she muttered the whole way. Sure, maybe she shouldn’t have brought up his dad. But she had a point and he knew it. That was why he was so pissed off. 

And canceling their meeting? What a dick. 

She stopped before hitting the button that would take her to the lobby. 

“You know what?” she said out loud. “I’m just going to wait.” She glanced around at the imitation of a spooky castle. “Hear that?” she shouted. “I’m not fucking leaving until you see sense!” 

Her voice echoed around the space. She half-expected a hoard of bats to take off from the rafters far above. She bit back an almost hysterical laugh. Maybe there were bats hiding up there. That’s probably where he got the idea from. 

She leaned back against the wall next to the elevator. 

“Am I going to have to have you arrested for trespassing?” 

Y/n jumped. Standing in the entrance to a hallway on her left was Alfred, the butler or…whatever he was. Security. Uncle. Bruce hadn’t ever actually clarified that point.

“Oh–Uh–” It was one thing to try to get back at Bruce. Alfred, frankly, intimidated her. And he seemed nice, unlike Bruce, which made her loathe to get on his nerves. “I was just–” 

“I take it the meeting didn’t go so well?” he said, letting her off the hook. 

She relaxed slightly. “Oh, it went perfectly. We yelled at each other for half an hour, debated the morality of vigilantes, and then when I accidentally brought up his dad, he kicked me out.” 

Alfred’s eyebrows practically disappeared into his hair. “Oh?” he said. 

Right. She probably wasn’t supposed to know that Bruce was Batman. “I uh…we actually met the night before last,” she said. “He stole my mask.” 

She was impressed that he didn’t show any emotion. “Did he?” 

“And I cut his face. It was an accident, but at yesterday’s meeting I noticed and…well. You probably know what I noticed.” 

Alfred hummed and relaxed his posture. “You didn’t tell anyone?” 

“Like I said, he stole my mask. I don’t give a shit what he does.” She shrugged. It was the truth. “All I want is for this merger to not only benefit our companies, but Gotham too. And for some reason the guy who runs around at all hours of the night protecting the city is suddenly waffling about using some of his buckets of cash to do some fucking good.” 

Alfred did the last thing she expected. He laughed. “Oh, I like you. Come on.” He waved her over and went to, of all things, another elevator. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, wondering if maybe there was a dungeon beneath this place that Alfred was tricking her into. “And why does this goddamn tower have so many elevators?” 

Alfred put in a code and stepped inside an elevator that was a lot…grungier than the others she’d been in inside of Wayne Tower. He pressed his thumb to a keypad and entered another code. He then hit a button labeled only B before the thing started to lower. Basement, maybe? 

“This one is only for Bruce and I.” 

“Are you taking me to the dungeon?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Alfred chuckled. “You’ll see.” 

“So that’s all it takes to get into Bruce Wayne’s inner sanctum, huh?” She leaned against the side of the elevator. “Sneak into the penthouse, pick a fight, and reveal that I know his deepest secret to his…uncle?” 

“Butler,” Alfred said. He shifted grip on his cane. “And Bruce needs someone to pick a fight with him.” 

“I really feel like you’re about to lock me in a dungeon.” 

The elevator jerked to a stop. There was a gate across the opening that rattled as it parted. 

Alfred gestured for y/n to step out, so she did. She was surprised to see Alfred was staying inside. He winked at her and was gone as the elevator ascended again. 

“Is she gone?” Bruce’s voice echoed around her and a chittering noise started in its wake. 

The space around her was…dark. She was standing on a platform with steps in front of her that led down to a wide open space. The edges of the area were in deep shadow and everything echoed strangely. Her eyes lifted to the dark ceiling and–holy shit, those were bats. 

Her gaze landed next on two words carved into the stone overhand: Wayne Station. 

“No, actually, she’s not,” y/n said as she followed the stairs down to where Bruce was. He had a shirt on now, at least. He was standing at a desk with several computer screens, hunched over as he scribbled something down. All around them were tables, computers, various tools, random pieces of Batman’s suit, two motorcycles, and a car on a ramp with one of those cloth covers over it. 

Bruce whirled at the sound of her voice. “What–” 

“Alfred let me in,” she said with a triumphant grin. The pen in Bruce’s hand cracked from the force of his grip. 

Bruce growled and turned back to what he was doing, unceremoniously flinging his pen to the side. “Alfred,” he muttered as if it were a curse. 

“He said you need someone to pick a fight with you. All I did was tell him I knew your secret and poof, here we are.” She greedily took in the space around her. It was so interesting. She had a feeling she was seeing a manifestation of Bruce’s mind. There were blueprints, all kinds of gadgets in various stages of completion, and a dummy dressed in his Batman armor and mask. 

“He–” Bruce muttered something else she didn’t catch. 

“Listen, I can pick a fight if you want, or you can show me all of this cool stuff.” There was almost a giddiness rising within her. He had so many cool gadgets, things she’d never dreamed of having. No wonder he was such a good vigilante. 

Bruce glared at her for a moment before turning back to whatever it was he was doing. It looked like he was making notes on a blueprint of some sort. The drawing looked like a car. Kind of. “It isn’t stuff,” she thought she heard him mumble, but she wasn’t sure. 

“Ooh, okay, fine. Let’s pick another fight. Will you get pissed off if I start moving stuff around?” It was too easy to tease him, she thought as she reached out and lifted something that looked an awful lot like a grenade. Her fingers had barely wrapped around it when Bruce’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. 

“Put that down.” 

She grinned at him and obliged. “That’s a yes, then. What if I touch this?” she asked as she picked up something that looked like the armbands he wore on his wrists. It was a lot heavier than she expected. Goddamn, he wore those things every night? Her wrist felt like it was about to break just from holding it. 

He snatched it from her. 

A small laugh escaped her lips. “You’re too easy a target.” She reached blindly for something else. 

He caught both of her wrists in his hands this time. “Stop doing that.” 

“Who pissed in your wheaties this morning, huh?” she asked as he yanked her away from the tempting pile of stuff. 

“You did,” he said. He still hadn’t let her go. 

“Listen,” she said after a beat. “I didn’t mean to–bring up anything by mentioning your dad, okay? I was frustrated.” 

“Understatement of the year,” he muttered. He glanced away but didn’t let her go. 

“I’m going to let that one slide because I really am sorry.” She shrugged as best as she could from within his grip. Her eyes trailed past him, over his shoulder, and she jerked. “Hey! That’s my fucking mask!” 

She yanked hard against him but he didn’t let her go. 

“I told you, you’re not getting it back,” he said firmly. He was scowling down at her. 

“You fucker,” she said. “I already ordered a new one, anyways. Made some improvements.” 

He sighed long and loud through his nose, eyes closed as if he were trying to find inner peace or something. 

“Will you let me go?” she asked.

“Will you stop touching stuff?” he asked, eyes opening. She didn’t miss the way his pupils expanded as he continued to stare at her. 

“That depends,” she said with a bold step forward. “Is there anything I am allowed to touch?” She said it so seductively that there wasn’t a question about her meaning. She let her chest brush against his. 

Bruce said nothing but his grip loosened. 

She slid one of her hands up his chest and rested it on his shoulder. “Do I really piss you off that much?” she murmured. 

“Yes.” 

“So you don’t like me…at all?” She pressed herself closer against him. His sweatpants did nothing to hide the fact that he at least liked her some. 

“I didn’t say that.” His hands fell to her waist, his touch burning hot even through her clothes. 

“Should I get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?” she asked in a low voice. Just imagining it turned her on so much her breath stuttered. Bruce’s fingers flexed against her and she felt the words go straight through him as his cock twitched against her stomach. “Or maybe you should get on your knees,” she murmured as her hand tangled in his hair. His eyes fluttered closed for a second. 

“Which one will make you shut up faster?” he asked after a second. His blue eyes flashed as they opened again. 

She laughed and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Sounds like you want my mouth full.” 

Bruce stopped breathing for a split second. Then his lips were crashing against hers. Her back smacked against the nearest table. He was everywhere. The warmth of his body surrounded her and she again had a moment of thinking he was larger than he was. His hands strayed up her shirt, the calluses on his bare palms dragging a shiver from her as they scraped across her skin. 

This time he bit her lower lip and the mixture of pleasure and pain had a soft noise escaping from her before she could stop it. 

“You’re so infuriating,” he said against her lips. “You drive me crazy.” 

“Right back at you,” she said and kissed him again. 

“I mean it,” he said as his nose traced her jaw. He pressed a kiss against her pulse. She was certain he could feel the way it suddenly jumped. “I have never been so aggravated by a person before.” He kissed down her neck and sighed into her skin. “And I’ve never wanted someone so much.” 

“Then do something about it,” she said with a challenge in her voice. It didn’t come out as strong as she’d hoped though, because his lips were distracting her, and one of his thumbs had chosen that moment to brush the underside of her breast through her bra. 

In one swift movement he had rid her of her shirt. His eyes were hungry as they took her in. “You’re beautiful,” he said. 

“Finally, a compliment,” she said but the words choked off as his lips touched the top of one breast and then the other. 

“One of us has to be nice,” he said, and the way his breath brushed against her skin made her shiver. He glanced up at her through his dark, dark lashes. 

“I can be nice,” she said defensively. What she really wanted to do was demand that he touch her already, but that would defeat the purpose of her comment about being nice. 

Bruce quirked an eyebrow at her. “Oh?” 

She pulled him back to his full height and settled on her knees before him. And bless him, he had some sort of cushioned mats underneath the tables so she wasn’t on hard concrete. Her hands settled on the backs of his thighs as she leaned back enough to stare up at him. 

“I can be very nice,” she said as she tugged his sweatpants down. 

His breath and hers both caught when his cock sprang free. Her mouth practically watered at the sight. His hand caressed the back of her head encouragingly but he made no move to force her forward. He simply watched, and waited. 

She licked the underside of him slowly. Her reward was a choked noise. His hand tightened spasmodically on her head but again, he didn’t force her forward. 

She licked him again, experimental this time, letting her mouth very slowly explore him, moistening him so when she decided to, her lips would slide right over him. 

She took the head of him in her mouth first and swirled her tongue. This time he moaned out her name. The sound of it made her squeeze her thighs together. Her want was a living, breathing thing within her. She didn’t want to tease anymore. She took him into her mouth fully, swallowing him as deep as she could. 

The sound Bruce made was desperate. It echoed around them and only served to make her hungry for more. She was doing that to him. She was making him feel that good. 

Her head bobbed, his hand a gentle guide on the back of it, the noises he was making becoming more frequent the more she moved. His body trembled. She wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing, either. 

All of a sudden her mouth was empty as he jerked away from her. It was instinct to follow but he tugged gently on her hair to stop her. 

“My turn to be nice,” he said, voice deeper than she’d ever heard it. He guided her upwards and kissed her so hard it left her breathless. He palmed one of her breasts with one hand and her ass with the other. Then her bra was falling off and to the floor. 

“You?” she said on half a gasp. “Nice?” 

He grinned at her. “I can be very nice.” 

He unzipped her skirt. It puddled around her ankles. She kicked off her shoes and the skirt in anticipation. 

“Yeah?” she said as both of his hands gripped her ass and pulled her closer. She wiggled against him, his cock against her bare stomach about to drive her wild with need and they hadn’t even done anything yet. “Prove it.” 

One of his hands was between her legs before she finished speaking. He brushed a thumb against her clit through her underwear, making her squirm. He leaned down to kiss the pulse point in her neck again. 

She made a noise of complaint when he stopped touching her but all he did was lift her so she was situated on the table. 

“Spread your legs,” he said and her body instinctually obeyed without her permission. He pulled down her underwear. His eyes were hungry as he lowered himself to her knees. He was devouring her with his gaze. His lips parted as his tongue darted out. She knew that tongue was about to be on her and the anticipation was killing her. 

“This is the part where you beg for forgiveness,” she said in a breathy voice. All of her bravado went out the window as he smirked at her and traced a finger through the wetness between her legs. 

He moved teasingly slow as he continued to trace her, staying just outside where she wanted him, every other pass stopping to circle her clit. He kissed the inside of one thigh and then the other. Then he paused, staring up at her with eyes like blue flames, and lifted one of her legs to rest on his shoulder. The new position made her lean back against her hands. 

She moaned at the first touch of his lips. His tongue gently traced her clit and she squirmed all over again.

“Bruce,” she said like a plea. 

He listened to her unspoken demand and inserted a single finger into her so slowly she wanted to scream. His tongue worked her clit as his finger moved in and out of her. The sensation started to build and build and build. She reached out for an anchor with one hand, something, anything to keep her grounded. Her fingers threaded into Bruce’s hair. He hummed against her, eliciting a moan from her as the vibrations moved through her body. 

“Fuck,” she said because there was no other word for it. 

He pushed a second finger inside her. His movements started to quicken. 

Her orgasm built within her as he moved faster and faster. The sensation of his tongue on her clit coupled with two of his fingers inside her was almost too much. She couldn’t catch her breath. 

Bruce slid a third finger inside her and every muscle in her body clenched around him. 

She shuddered as the orgasm washed over her, pleasure rolling on waves throughout her body. 

When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. Somehow, that was hotter than anything he’d done up until that point. The look in his eyes, feral and hungry, made her feel more naked than her actual nakedness. 

“How do you want me?” she asked, voice thick in the wake of her orgasm. Her body shuddered with an aftershock and Bruce’s piercing blue eyes didn’t miss any of it. He stood slowly, the bulk of him seeming to unfold little by little as he towered over her. He pulled his shirt off with one hand and somehow kept eye contact the whole time. 

He stepped between her legs and she shivered again. The air was cold but the warmth pouring from Bruce’s magnificent body was enough to keep her from feeling it. 

“How do you like it?” 

God, his fucking voice. Deep and sexy and with a hint of a growl that turned her on. 

How did she like it? Was he serious? She just wanted him inside her, she didn’t care where or how. 

“Just fuck me,” she said when she could find her voice. 

“You’re so bossy,” he said with half a smile as he bent to kiss her. 

She clutched his shoulders. “I mean it, Bruce,” she said with as much bravado as she could muster. “Fuck me. I have an IUD so we have nothing to worry about.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked after a second. He studied her face calmly as if she weren’t half-mad with lust. As if his cock wasn’t dripping for her, angled perfectly to go inside her. 

“I don’t know how I could make my consent any clearer.” She rolled her eyes. Then she realized that maybe Bruce wasn’t sure. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” he said against her lips, and then pushed into her so suddenly she cried out. 

She said every cuss word she knew which only served to make him laugh. The vibrations traveled between their connected bodies in a delicious way. He stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust to him, his lips moving up her neck and to her breasts and to her lips. 

“Fuck,” Bruce said as he began to move. She agreed with the sentiment. With her leaning back on the table, him between her legs, the angle was just right to immediately send shivers up and down her spine. Every thrust made her muscles clench. 

The feel of his cock within her was almost transcendent. She grabbed him tightly, pressing their bodies together, keeping him close to her as he thrust in and out. 

He slid a hand between them to circle her clit and she cried out as she came almost immediately. When she opened her eyes she expected to see that she had burst into flames. Bruce was staring at her again, his expression tight. 

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he said and the words almost made her do so again. 

“I bet you are too,” she said with a grin. She wrapped her legs around him so that their bodies were flush. The new angle made them both gasp. His big hands splayed across her back and her own hands tangled in his hair. He seemed to like it when she pulled, so pull she did. 

“Y/n…” he said into the crook of her neck. His thrusts picked up speed. She saw stars as his cock hit her just right, over and over and over. The grip she had on his hair was a lifeline now, the only thing grounding her and keeping her from exploding into a million tiny pieces. 

“Come inside me, Bruce,” she said. It wasn’t at all bossy like she’d intended it, but he groaned anyways. 

He rocked into her, harder and deeper than before, the sweat on their skin making their chests slide together. His fingers deftly swept over her clit again. Her cry echoed, almost a scream, as she came for the third time. 

Bruce wasn’t far behind. His thrusts stuttered, rhythm uneven, as his hips jerked into her. She could feel it spill out of her even as he continued to move. 

“Fuck,” he said as his hips slowly jerked to a stop. They were both panting. 

“Fuck,” she agreed. She was still clinging to him. They stayed tangled together for a minute more. Her body shivered with aftershocks every few seconds. Her mind was blissfully blank. Her limbs were warm, her body languid. She felt completely wrung out in the best way possible. 

Bruce kissed her jaw. His hands rubbed idle circles against her bare back. It was…sweet. She liked it. Usually the men she fucked pulled out and yanked their clothes back on in the same movement. 

“I had no idea Bruce Wayne was such a…generous lover,” she said, breath still heaving. 

“Now you know all of my secrets.” He toyed with her hair, his face softer than she’d ever seen it. She let her legs fall from around his waist. He stepped back, sliding out of her, and passed her a small towel from God only knew where. “It’s clean, I promise.” 

“I highly doubt I know all your secrets.” Their eyes met and they shared a smile. She cleaned herself up to the best of her ability. “I’d like to, though.” 

“Oh?” he said, and there was a vulnerability in his expression that wasn’t there before. 

“Feel free to say no, but I’d like to take you on a date.” She nudged him gently. She pulled her bra and underwear back on. 

“I’d like that. But I should pay.” He pulled up his sweatpants but left his shirt off. She couldn’t say she minded the view. 

“Oh, I only meant I was driving. You’re definitely paying.” 

He laughed, long and loud, and the sound stirred something in her gut. 

“Who knew that all you needed was to get laid to loosen up?” she teased as she gave him another playful nudge. 

“I doubt this is what Alfred had in mind when he said I needed someone to pick a fight with,” Bruce said with another slight laugh. “But it worked, didn’t it?” 

Y/n glanced around, suddenly panicked. “There aren’t security cameras in here, are there?”

Something glinted in his eyes. A playfulness, almost. “No, there aren’t.” 

She squinted at him, suspicious. “If you tell me know and I find out you’re beating off to the tape every night–” 

He laughed again, this one a short, surprised burst of sound. He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I promise there’s not.” 

She finished straightening her hair with a soft hmph. “Fine, fine. Date’s still on then, I guess.” 

Bruce leaned in and brushed a kiss to her temple. It was as if he couldn’t help it. As if the sex had softened all of his rough edges. Maybe it had softened her, too, because she couldn’t drum up an ounce of annoyance at him if she tried. In fact, she leaned into the touch. 

“Seriously,” she teased as she bent to pull her shoes back on. “It’s like you’re a different person.” 

“What can I say?” he said. He spread his hands. “You’re not all bad.” 

“Does this mean you’ll accept all my terms with the merger?” 

There was a long, long pause. “Absolutely not.” 

She snorted, and they fell into what was becoming their new routine of bickering as they went upstairs to get lunch.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 13

THE DINNER ENDS!!!!!! Dear god, I need to write something that has less than seven characters present in the currently-being-written scene. This segment will be a bit longer than most previous ones simply because I was so close to the end.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason. Looks like he was breaking his promise.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.9k

-----

“Look, I’ve faced both an evil future version of me and have had to deal with mind control.” He looked to Bruce and, serious now, said, “As soon as the Anti-Ecto Acts are repealed and the Guys in White disbanded, I will help you write those plans myself.”

Bruce gave a single nod. “Do you know what caused you to turn evil in the alternate time stream?”

Danny sighed and nodded. “Believe it or not, I cheated on a standardized exam.”

“Okay, what?” asked Tim, incredulous. “What sort of 2000s PSA life do you live? How did that lead you down the path to evil?”

Danny frowned. “I got caught, my teacher met with Jazz, my partners, and my parents at a local restaurant to discuss it. There was an explosion and the entire place blew up killing every single person I was close to. I was then sent to live with Vlad where things got worse.”

Duke let out a low whistle. “Damn. I think I’d go evil, too, under that pressure.”

Robin flew over to him and draped himself over Danny’s back, hugging him as tightly as he could. Jazz reached over and gripped his hand. He gave her a smile and squeezed back.

Bruce nodded. “But it sounds like a future that is unlikely to happen again.”

“Grandpa says the same thing. And since he’s the Ghost of Time, I try to believe him.”

Tim made a noise of agreement. “Be glad you have that assurance. I’ve an evil future self as well. He’s such an asshole.”

Danny forced a laugh, recognizing the attempt at levity. “I’m sure. How’d you get yours to go away?”

He shrugged. “The obvious way. Threatened to kill myself so I could never grow up into him.”

Dick spluttered from his spot next to Damian. “I’m sorry, you did what? Tim! How could you?”

Tim shrugged. “Better than having an evil, gun-using Batman running around.”

Bruce was now sitting with his head in his hands. The rest of the table also started yelling at Tim, the references and names making no sense to Danny who looked over to Jazz. She just shrugged at him.

Leaning over, he whispered in her ear, “At least your in-laws won’t be too freaked out when weird things happen around you.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Honestly, I’m glad this is how the evening ended. It means no more secrets between Jason and me.”

“Guys, enough!” shouted Tim. “Look, I’m fine. This happened ages ago. But I promise I’ll update my incident report so you can all snoop on it later. Now, if you’ve all forgotten, we have guests. And ones who can help us with our League troubles. Danny, you had questions about the Lazarus pits?”

“Yeah, uh, you said it can be used to heal people? How does that work?” To Jason, he added, “And how did you interact with it?”

“I was dunked in it,” said Jason with a shrug. “After I’d been revived. I wasn’t in my right mind and Damian’s mom thought it might help.”

Robin nodded and signed something.

Dick translated for the ghost. “Baby Jason says the pit tied him and Big Jason together, but also prevented them from actually combining into one person again.”

Danny looked between them. “You were submerged in a pool of bubbling ectoplasm? How the hell did that not kill you? That shouldn’t be possible for a human. I doubt it’d be good for a ghost!” No wonder his future brother-in-law was split in two. That was probably the best that could be expected.

Danny hadn’t even realized how hard he was projecting concern until Robin trilled back at him to calm him down. Danny took a deep breath and pulled in his aura. “Sorry, Robin. I do think I’d like to get you both in to see my doctor as soon as possible, though.”

Jazz cleared her throat. “We can discuss that at home.”

Bruce stared at him. “Do you think they can help Jason?”

Danny shrugged. “He knows the most about ghost-human hybrids of anyone. If anything can be done, he’ll know.”

“I will go with you,” Bruce said.

Danny immediately shook his head. “Nope. I won’t bring anyone from Earth into the Realms until the Anti-Ecto acts are repealed. And only Jason can invite people to his private medical check up.”

Steph pouted. “But Jason is from Earth. Sure, he’s got some weird thing going on, but why does he get to go exploring other dimensions?”

“Cause he’s dead. He belongs to the Infinite Realms just as much as he belongs to Earth. I’m not gonna block someone from accessing their home.”

“I’m not dead!” yelled Jason. “I’m alive.”

Danny winced. He’d have to talk to Jazz about that. Death wasn’t really a thing that could be recovered from. Not fully. But it wasn’t his place to tell Jason he was still dead if he wasn’t ready to hear that. Jazz or Frostbite could have that conversation. “Of course you’re alive. And Earth is your home, too. But you’ve got one in the Realms if you ever need or want it. Think of it like dual citizenship.”

“I don’t want it.”

Danny sighed. “Look, then the part of you that is manifesting as Robin has a place there and you two can’t be separated so you’re allowed to follow him. It’s the only way I’ll be able to get you in to see the best doctor to help you out.”

“Jason,” Jazz spoke gently and rested her hand on his forearm, “you’re still alive. Nothing about your situation has changed. You just have some more information and more help. Which is a good thing.”

Jason frowned and didn’t answer, choosing instead to glare at his dinner plate.

No one else spoke up until Alfred cleared his throat. “Well, I believe that we should wrap the conversation up here. We’ve all received quite a lot of information and will need some time to review it and consider our next steps.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah, I think— Wait, um, before we end this, would you have a sample of the Lazarus Water I could take to Frostbite?” At the confused looks he was given, he added, “The doctor I mentioned. I think it’d help him figure out how best to help Jason and Robin.”

Bruce exchanged looks Danny couldn’t interpret with Damian and Tim before speaking. “We’ll have to discuss it. Would we be able to give you our answer in two days? At the very least, we’d like to have the report from your friend first.”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. The sooner the better, though. I’ll call Tucker on the way to Jazz and Jason’s. We’ll put something together for you tonight. I’m not sure exactly how long it’ll take, though. Depends on how much sleep Tuck’s running on.”

Bruce merely nodded.

Dick laughed and got to his feet. “Well, it’s been an absolute pleasure getting to know you. Welcome to the craziness of the Wayne family. It sounds like Jazz and you will fit right in. Let me walk you out.”

His words seemed to be a signal to the rest of the family. Most of whom also rushed over to try and insist on walking them out.

Until Jason shouted, “Enough! We don’t need a crowd to follow us to Jazz’s car. You can say goodbye from here just as easily.”

Dick pouted but acquiesced. Only after pulling Jason into a hug, though. Jason forced Dick to let him go only for Robin to rush in and take his place to Dick’s delight. After separating, they signed something to each other that had Jason blushing and scowling.

And then Dick moved on to hug Jazz, then Danny. “Come back anytime,” he told Danny. “Whether or not those two are with you. B meant it when he said you would have a room here.”

But then Steph was pushing Dick to the side to give Danny a hug as well. “What’s your phone number? I so want whatever blackmail you get on Jason. And I’ll share some of what I have.”

Danny laughed, but did agree to exchange numbers before the Duke was in front of him.

“Dude, you have to come by more often. It’s so annoying being the only meta around here.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Danny promised.

When Tim came over, he insisted on adding both Danny and Jazz to some of the family group chats. “If you give me your sister’s number, I’ll add her in, too.”

Jazz shook her head. “We’ll have to confirm she wants to be added in first. And ask her if she’d like an introduction to Superboy.”

“His name’s Kon. Kon-El. I’ll message him tonight, too. I’m sure he’d love to meet her.”

“Dani will say yes,” said Danny, “but she doesn’t always reply right away. We’ll let you know as soon as we hear from her.”

Then Tim was being pushed aside by Barbara who wanted to make sure he knew how to send them the information about ghosts and the Realms. And Cass was waving goodbye.

Bruce was the last of the group to approach them. “Remember, if you ever need a place to stay or want to lay low, you can come here any time. Even if you just want a warm meal. Your sister as well.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” said Jazz. “We do really appreciate that. You don’t have to offer it.”

“But I want to. Jason…” he trailed off before trying again. “I would like it if you kept me informed with any updates to your condition.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Right, because you want to know how much of a liability I am.”

If anything, Bruce’s face became more closed off at those words. “That’s not… Hn.”

Robin rolled his eyes, somehow visible despite his mask, and flew over to hug Bruce around the waist. Danny couldn’t make sense of the expression Bruce wore as he looked down at the ghost and though his arms twitched, he didn’t return the hug.

Alfred smoothly stepped forward before anyone could say anything. “Well, now that the goodbyes have all been said, I will walk you four out.”

Jason shook his head. “You don’t have to, Alfie. I know the way.”

“Of course you do, Master Jason. But I insist. We’ll stop by the kitchens and I’ll send you home with leftovers.”

Danny tried to hide his smile as Jason merely turned and walked in the direction of the kitchens. It seemed no one argued against Alfred. Once in the kitchens, they were given so much food to take home it required all three to carry it, then Alfred was leading them out a side door which brought them to the drive where Jazz’s car was parked.

Jazz nudged him and nodded her head towards the car. Danny nodded and followed her in while Jason, Alfred, and Robin remained outside to talk for a minute.

Danny took the back seat and met Jazz’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

She gave him a wry smile and said, “What a night, huh?”

Danny snickered before bursting out into full-on laughter, Jazz joining a breath behind him.

-----

Next

Tim totally spilled the beans about Gun Batman to get people distracted from Danny. He's just being a good new friend.

I'm thinking I'll put this on a temporary hiatus as I work through how I want arc two to go. I know the story beats, but the pacing will absolutely have to change. Not gonna spend 16k words on a single evening again! (Did you guys realize it was that long? I certainly did. XP) In the meantime, I'll keep working on Bring Me Home and rewriting the Wrong Number AU.

Bonus points to anyone who can guess my favorite line from this segment!

And sorry for not replying to comments on the post from two weeks ago. I got caught up in irl stuff and wasn't able to get around to it.

Tag List Part 1

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

[lily-radiance]

Random fic headcanons and ideas:

TWD season two Daryl Dixon with an S/O who's in trouble

Both loners

MC is not from Georgia

Early 20s MC dating mid-30s Daryl

She knows how to shoot archery bows but not crossbows

Touch-starved

Andrea considers MC like another younger sibling

Everyone advises Daryl not to go for you and vice versa

When Rick, Hershel, and Glenn go to the bar, MC accompanies them. Daryl only goes when Lori tells him that you are in danger.

Carol gives him advice

Andrea and Lori warn him if he breaks your heart, he's a dead man.

RE4 Leon with a high school best friend who became an Umbrella Scientist.

MC was initially training for the force with Leon but dropped out to find another passion

She wants to help people but gets pulled into Umbrella’s dark research

Leon caught a glimpse of her at the end of RE2 but couldn't be sure if it was her.

Ashley doesn't trust MC, but Leon ignores it

Both have combat experience and have undergone physical conditioning

MC does not have Las Plagas

Krauser spars with MC, causing Leon to jump in.

Krauser asks Leon to choose between you and Ashley.

IDK if Leon would be sweet here or a Yandere.

Arkham Movie Trilogy Jonathan Crane, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy x Psychiatrist reader

This story is currently in progress!!!

Reader works at Arkham Asylum

Friends with Bruce Wayne

Knows about his alter ego and occasionally helps him solve cases

Reader believes Bruce should do more with his money to benefit Gotham

Combines Heath Ledger’s Joker with Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn

The reader was in the same major as Harley in college, and the two dated briefly

Harley constantly teases the reader when she catches wind of a new crush

You try to ignore her, but eventually can't as she warns you that the doctor is deadlier than he lets on

You brush it off, too fond of your coworker to accept the notion that he can hurt you

Bruce doesn't like your new counterpart, picking up a destructive energy that screams guilty

In defiance, you decide to bring your beaux to one of many parties and get on your friend’s last nerve.

A kiss is shared in front of the crowd, some murmuring complaints while others smile. You wish to stay in Jonathan’s arms, but the moment is interrupted as Bruce pulls you aside

Naturally, two upper-class socialites fighting in front of an audience calls for bad publicity, but not on your part

“If you keep this up, you'll become a sewer rat criminal just like the rest!”

Luckily, you decided to wear a few rings to accentuate your outfit. Not only do you look stunning, but you reel back and land a brutal slap on his cheek. Yet that doesn't hurt as much as your following words.

“How dare you, Bruce. How dare you scrutinize what you can never understand. Thomas and Martha would be ashamed of you, and you, of all people, know they were difficult to rattle. Next time you need anything, ask someone who gives a shit.”

Your friend has to watch in shock as you exit the home, arm linked with a man he despises. Even in disagreeable situations, you manage to exhibit grace and elegance. It's the beginning of a new era and the opportunity to forget the complex life of the wealthy.

“Is your hand alright, (Y/N)? Better yet, are you okay?”

Never underestimate a psychiatrist to get into your head. He walks you to the car, watching your lips tremble in the darkness. You meet his stare, and one thought crosses your mind: kissing him sounds lovely. The doctor is efficient at picking up social cues, leaning down to meet your lips, and extinguishing the frigid temperature.

“As long as I'm with you, Jonathan. I can do anything with you by my side, no matter the risks.”

I want to make the reader an anti-hero vigilante with the “Grim Reaper” theme. Supernatural powers in Batman don't really occur so I will brainstorm. Most villains are the work of genetic experiments gone wrong so maybe I'll work with that?

JD(Heathers 1989) dating the reader

You are friends with Veronica and the despicable Heathers

Instead of going along with their charades, you often argue and challenge Heather Chandler

She constantly threatens your social standing but knows that the campus would easily choose you over her.

Purple color coded

JD can't help but admire your tenacity as you begrudgingly follow Veronica to the table, attempting to stop the girl from doing Heather’s bidding.

When you walk over, he seems uninterested in the girl speaking to him, instead transfixed on your disinterested attitude. Unknowingly, you lick your lips, tasting lip gloss and wiping some glitter away. When you lock eyes, you swear your heart stops beating, drawn to his carefree attitude.

Veronica says a few words to you, trying to convince you to let her administer the lunch poll

As she talks, you playfully roll your eyes, causing the delinquent to smirk in your direction. He hides a chuckle from breaking out, finding your careless joking funny given the circumstances. When Veronica walks off, it allows you to sit across from the newcomer, albeit a little too eagerly.

“Mind if I ask for a smoke? I'm dying from boredom.”

“Sure, I could never say no to a girl like you. I’m guessing you’ve been trying to break from those devils all day.”

He lights your cigarette as you take it between your teeth, enjoying the visual more than he lets on.

“It's all thanks to you, my knight in obsidian armor.”

[sochawrites]

Hi I was just wondering if you do yandere characters? If so I would like to request a yandere!comics!Bane with a reader who came to him to learn how to fight but then started backing away from him when he tries to get them into the more crime-y stuff.

If your not comfortable with the yandere bit then you can ignore it.

I'm not necessarily against it, I never tried to write it, but it can't hurt to try! ^^

I tried to keep this gn, since you didn't specify which gender you want me to write it for, but comic!Bane does use Spanish from time to time and, well, it kind of lacks neutral terms. I opted for switching between male and fem terms with those words since it's what some people use in my country instead of the neutral ones. But the closest I have ever been to learning Spanish was taking a few courses on Duolingo, if some terms are wrongfully used, I am terribly sorry.

And Happy New Year!

Abeja

Yandere! Bane x gn! reader

Have Bane's gorgeous ass and back as an apology (I may have dug out my copy of Europa just to get this)

Bane, the man, the myth, the legend, and currently the newest foe of Gotham's Dark knight, but in this madness-ruled city, there was a new one almost every week. Yet this one was different. He wasn't mad like the clown prince of crime, or a part of organized crime like the Penguin. He acted here of his own will, and he wasn't alone.

His motives were unclear, but that didn't matter to you all that much, he was the new big fish in town and was there to stay, that was all you needed to know. You made your way to his hideout, going by the coordinates you traded with some more friendly crooks, getting halfway through before being caught. You could say that it was your superpower, but in reality, you were just quiet and observant.

"You are brave but incredibly foolish for coming here, pequeño." one more word ran through the masked man's mind, one he tried to shove away from the very moment you stepped inside his lair, yet it still lingered. He was staring you down like a predator on a hunt, "I think you have no idea how dangerous I am, do you?"

Bane was right in one thing, you were foolish, foolish enough to come and seek help from him, "No, I do know the extent of your power, that is exactly why I am here.". You were done with being the bottom feed of the city. Even with Batman, people, both close to you and foreign, were still getting robbed, raped, and killed, and you refused to be next on the list.

So you came to the one being you thought of as not only the strongest, but the fairest, believing he had Gotham's best interest in mind, that his path was righteous, and that he would rid the city of the infection. If only you knew then how wrong you were, you would have saved yourself a lot of trouble.

"Are you now? Then tell me, what is it that you want from me?" the more he looked at you, the more he was set on keeping you, your answer had little impact on your fate. There was something about you, about your beauty, and Bane was sure it would drive him crazy if he gave you up.

"Teach me. Teach me how to fight like you, and I promise you my loyalty." you even knelt before him! That made things especially easy.

And so he took you under his wing, teaching you what he deemed worthy for you to know. You were endearing to him, and the more you two chatted, the worse it was, for both of you. What you saw at first as a way out of misery had since become something of a friend. That was how you decided to call it, friendship, completely ignoring the way he quite literally took over your life.

He never let you out of his sight. You thought it was to guarantee your safety, but Bane was simply making sure to keep you for himself. Yet an idea materialized over time. You were the perfect grey mouse, the way you crept in… you had talent, he could use that.

You would be perfect for infiltration. Sure, he would put you in harm's way, but he had trained you, and if he was there to step in whenever needed, to save the day… It would all work out, it had to.

So he started sending you out. First just to the territories of other rogues to test the waters, then he moved to dispatching you straight to the dragon dens. Bane was always close of course. He didn't trust his men to look after you, no matter how loyal to him they were, it wouldn't be enough to calm his mind. He called this upon himself and he swore he would keep you safe, convincing himself that he was the only one who could keep his abeja safe.

But you couldn't continue like that. You first seeked Bane out so that you could stay away from criminals as far as possible, but only now have you started to realize you joined forces with one. You had to draw the line somewhere, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Do not touch what is mine, Bat!", Bane roared out the first and only warning he was willing to give. You were hiding behind Batman, the man you lured to the Iceberg lounge as your last hope to get away from the controlling man.

For the first time in months, you were truly scared. Not only had you broken Bane's trust after swearing him your loyalty, but you also brought in the bat when his plan wasn't fully prepared.

You were quickly shown aside as the fight between the two gained intensity. You could not help but look at the brawl. The way they clashed, it was clear Bane hadn't taught you all he knew.

Batman fought hard, but Bane was fierce, furious, and even though he had his venom prepared, he didn't feel the need to use it. His wit and determination to get you back were this time enough to send Batman scurrying away in a hurry, leaving you behind and on your own.

"Stay away! I'm armed and I'm not afraid to use it!" you raised your weapon higher into the air, closer to Bane's face, only for him to laugh at you. "That's a fork, abeja." he muttered as he disarmed you effortlessly and picked you up by the back of your shirt as you stood paralyzed, watching the utensil that was now out of your reach.

Bane took his mask off with his free hand, revealing a cruel smirk on his lips, "Estás en problemas, Y/N...". His voice came out dangerously low, but there was a notable hint of patience. You momentarily locked your eyes with his green ones, the look he gave you... It wasn't only stern and authoritative, but also tender, almost soft, it was off, sickeningly so. "Care to explain yourself?"

"Not to you!" you spat in his face, all admiration you had towards him long gone. You started to wiggle and trash around to make the man lose his hold on you, only to be met with an amused chuckle.

"Eres luchadora, cariño, I always loved that about you, so smart, so ravishing.", Bane spoke out before switching his hold on you, trapping you closer to him, "There's nothing I could do but to fall in love with you.". He kept your hyperventilating form in a rock hold as he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes "I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me, Y/N, but I can't let you go. Ni ahora, ni nunca."

[tegerton]

Dude, duuuuuuuuuuuuuuude! Does anyone even remember me? Sorry for the very long hiatus, but I’m dipping my toes back into fanfic writing. Hopefully I’m not too rusty. What better way to come back with trying out an original story, that’s right this bad boy is coming from my head.

You can all thank @justsomerandomfanfic for waking me up. Seriously, thank you so much for liking my writing. It means the world (I thought my writing was pretty bad not gonna lie haha) but I am so glad I can make someone’s day with it! Apologies in advance. Please let me know if I should add any specific warnings! Hearts, reblogs, and comments are lovely!

I am going to try and attempt a GN reader x Eggsy (please let me know if I need to fix anything)

Eggsy x GN Reader

Word Count: A little over 1k

Warnings: Implied fighting and not so great friends (it’s not too bad tho)

It was supposed to be just a chill night out with some friends at a rather less crowded bar. Yeah it was anything but that. Once the words “Manners, maketh, man.” were thrown into the mix and all bets were off the table. Various objects like tables, chairs, and umbrellas went flying as their eyes scanned to find various things.

1. Find a safe exit (The front doors had been barricaded shut, but there’s got to be an emergency exit somewhere in this dump).

2. Stick with the people you know.

3. Get out.

After a few close attempts the group decided to book it for an exit that was in the back of the little kitchen in the bar. The friends left in a hurry not giving their final remaining friend a clear plan.

“Thanks guys! Thanks for not TELLING ME THE PLAN!” The tone was in the midst of transitioning from rather annoyed to fearing for their life. But rather than hearing screams and carious grunts the room was eerily silent. It’s at this moment that they realized someone just saw their outburst. Turning to face the one man army they noticed the umbrella that had been previously used to take out at least half of the patrons in the bar who are currently laying on the ground. “Put the umbrella down.” The rather well dressed man slowly followed orders as he gently placed his Kingsman umbrella onto the floor. “Now, unlock the doors.” With some loud clicking the entrance was now unlocked. “Ok I’m going to leave.” It was an agonizingly slow exit as they never turned their back on the stranger.

“Sorry I ruined your night out.” Once his accent came out their heart dropped just the tiniest bit, it didn’t help that he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck exposing a rather good physique in the muscles of his arms.

“No, do not try to play the cute guy card with me.” Their hands pressed onto their hips as the shortness of breath from the entire situation finally caught up. A strained sigh came over as the lights reflecting off the rainy pavements were not helping.

“The cute card?” His hands fixed his suit as he finally exited the bar smoothly opening the umbrella right over both of their heads. “I’d rather say I’m just charming in general.” His wink was met with a side eye. “Alright I kind of get the sense that maybe I did something wrong.”

“Hmmmm I’m not sure let me go ask someone in the bar if they know,” It was the fake walk back to the bar that made him chuckle. “Oh yeah that’s right, they’re all passed out!”

“Would it make you feel better if I said I was Batman or something?”

“Batman doesn’t fight crime dressed like Bruce Wayne.”

“Batman isn’t Bruce Wayne.” The seriousness in his voice just made the joke even better. Their eyes rolled with a smile as a well deserved slug was met on his shoulder. “Let’s start over,” He offered his hand for a shake. “Eggsy.”

“Eggsy?” The bridge of their nose scrunched up in thought. “I haven’t been in the UK that long but I will admit that’s the most unique name I’ve come across so far.”

“Well my real name is Gary but I go by Eggsy!” His face was beaming as he explained the story of his nickname. On the other hand the poor bystander was just wanting to go home.

“Yeah that’s really cool and all but I kind of need to get home.” It was their polite yet desperate grimace and the shuffling of feet that made Eggsy connect the dots. Maybe don’t go straight for someone you’re interested in right after making them think they were your next victim. The string of muttered curses that left his lips made it hard to not fall deeper into the surprisingly chill and trendy guy. “Y/N, forgot to tell you. That’s my name.” Finally learning the mystery person’s name gave Eggsy a little faith that he wasn’t a complete failure with charming someone.

“That has to be the weirdest name I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh shut up!” In what would be the weirdest of situations the two found light at the end of the tunnel, a blossoming friendship that Eggsy only dreamed would turn into something else only with time. “No but seriously I have work at 7AM, I need sleep.”

“Do you need a ride?” A part of Eggsy was holding onto hope that the offer would be accepted but he knew the chances were slim.

“As much fun as that sounds, I drove here.” Y/N held up their keys as they pressed the lock button a couple of times causing the car to beep back. “Thanks for the offer.” The night was cold as they rubbed their hands together. “I hope to never see you pissed off at a bar ever again.” A cheesy smile was plastered on their face as Eggsy’s face flushed slightly but due to the cold weather he was able to hide it.

“Yeah hopefully next time we meet, it isn’t like this.” Y/N’s head turned towards him as they laughed a bit.

“What do you want my number or something?” The laugh died fairly quickly as they noticed the look on his face.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed.” He gently kicked a nearby rock. After a quick number exchange the two finally went their separate ways. Y/N noticed the number scribbled on the back of some business card as they slipped it over for further inspection.

“Kingsman?” Some store they had never heard of as they just got in their car and headed back to their apartment. Opening the door their roommate came barreling through giving them a hug.

“Oh my gosh, I was so worried when we lost you at the bar!” Y/N’s shoulders slumped into the hug.

“Yeah you guys were real worried alright.” The tone and sentiment were definitely called for especially since nobody even reached out to help. Not wanting to give it the light of day Y/N just went to their own little room and locked the door. That whole friends thing was for another day, but not now.

The next morning was uneventful as their shift went by with nothing really special happening. Not a bad day, not a good day, just a day. But hey at least the customer’s weren’t the absolute worst today.

“Can I clock out?” The manager slightly jumped in her seat not noticing their hire, engrossed in their emails.

“Oh yeah, thanks for your help.” And with the okay to leave it was a race to find somewhere to get food. With food on the brain, they almost passed something until a shiny golden logo caught their eye. It was the Kingsman store, Y/N took a peek through the window to see what exactly was being sold there but was met with Eggsy who sat across from another man dressed up just like him.

“No way.”

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

I'm Not Sick (Dick Grayson Drabble)

Fandom: DC, Batman, Dick Grayson, Nightwing, gn!reader

Word Count: 543

TW: Fluff, Reader has a cold, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested Nightwing x Reader where reader is sick and Nightwing takes care of them.

“Dick, I’b fide!” you whined nasally through your clogged nose as you tried to march down the stairs to the Batcave, but Dick grabbed your arm.

“You are not fine. I can barely understand you through that stuffy nose. Now go back to bed right now!” Dick demanded as he pointed up towards the bedroom.

You crossed your arms defiantly across your chest. “I’b dot a little kid. You cad’t tell be what to do.”

“Want to bet?” Dick frowned. “Don’t think I won’t throw you over my shoulder and drag you back upstairs. And in your current condition, I doubt there’s much you could do to try and stop me.”

Giving him the most stubborn look you could muster, you tried to push past Dick. But just then a shiver tore through you so violently that you almost collapsed to the floor. Luckily, he was close enough that he managed to steady you before you fell. Concerned, he placed his hand on your forehead and his frown deepened.

“Baby, I think you need to go to the hospital. You’re really burning up.”

“I said I’b fide. Besides, I dod’t ever get sick.” But instead of continuing to fight back, you leaned your head weakly against Dick’s chest.

“You were captured and held in Mr. Freeze’s lair for two days. It makes sense that anyone stuck in that setting would catch a cold. That doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human.” He rubbed your back gently. “So, what do you say?”

“Cad you just take be to by roob?” You mumbled softly into his chest.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.”

Dick would have felt a lot better having you checked out by a doctor, but at the moment, he would take what he could get. So, gathering your shivering form into his arms, he began the long climb up the stairs towards your room.

As he carried you, you muttered, “Do you thidk Alfred could bake that soup I like?”

“I’m sure he can. I’ll ask him once I get you settled.” You softly hummed your thanks.

 When Dick finally made it to your room, he carried you inside and laid you down on the bed.  After tugging off your boots and peeling off your jacket, he covered you with your blanket and started to back out of the room.

“Cad you stay?” came a small voice from the darkness.

“I thought you wanted soup?” Dick asked.

“I do, but I wadt you bore.”

Dick smiled and reentered the room. “Of course, baby. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

He paused, quickly scrawling something on the notepad laying on your desk before placing it outside the door. Then Dick crawled into bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight against his chest. You snuggled gratefully into his arms and in no time, you were both fast asleep.

An hour later, Alfred happened to be walking by your room on his way downstairs when something caught his eye. He picked up the notepad that was leaning against your door and chuckled softly to himself as he read the note scribbled in Master Dick’s handwriting. Changing directions, he headed down to the kitchen to prepare your requested meal.

[multifanatics]

All The World's a Stage || Joker x F!Reader

A/N: I wanted to try my hand at writing a Joker x Reader fic since I finished Harley Quinn and The Joker: Sound Mind and am getting the Harleen comics. The beginning is a tad gruesome, I have no idea why but here we are.

Warnings: Blood, Descriptive, The beginning is a bit gruesome, Twisted romance? PROCEED with caution as there are more that I haven't caught.

Word Count: 1164

The only other thing [Y/N] could hear was his signature maniacal laugh. His laughter and the thumping of her heart beat. The cause of her current rush of adrenaline that surged through her veins, the same adrenaline that kept her at her current task. The uncontrollable contagious laughter of no one other than the Joker himself was the only other thing she could hear. 

“I th.. I think that punchline STUCK!” He tried to contain his laughter while running a hand through his longer green hair in an attempt to get the stray strands back in the position they were previously. Joker stared at [Y/N] taking in the way the blood of the man who previously insulted her was so graciously splattered on her face. The weapon of choice was a hatchet, not exactly the cleanest but it did the job which was the center of today’s lesson. Using what you had over what you preferred and [Y/N] demonstrated the skills of an A+ student. 

“Did I do good?” [Y/N] asked as she came back to her reality. The adrenaline that sounded like a drum muted, causing her to be slightly more tired than she had been previously. 1 am on a skyscraper with a man who could kill her just as she had done to the poor man with a hatchet through his heart. It was the symbolism of the action that made her swing harder, and soothe her fear. Even with all rational thought rushing back to her the atmosphere felt romantic. [Y/N] was on a rooftop illuminated by Gotham city 330 feet below her with a special guest. What a dance, one may say a Midnight Waltz. 

“That question is starting to bore me.. Of COURSE you did well, I am the one who taught you.”  Narcissism, and dependence wrapped into man and woman who happened to find each other.  Unlucky are those who trifle with the stage they perform on such as The Batman which according to the news remained in a hospital overseas. Everyone bleeds but how many cuts does it take for an already fragile Bat until he bleeds black? 

“Well it seems the GCPD are missing an old friend. Perhaps we should bow and exit stage right?” [Y/N] gazed into the illuminescent sky where the Bat signal remained. Gotham’s way of saying Get better Batman.. We need you. The ‘hero’ who caused the villains in Gotham he currently could not control since the newest Arkham breakout which ricocheted with Blackgate. [Y/N] was brought out of her thoughts by Joker stepping onto the ledge of the skyscraper she watched his intricate steps. The tight rope routine is a known and practiced routine [Y/N] personally uses on old tightrope back at the circus. 

“To quote Shakespeare: ‘All the world's a stage.” Joker once again distracted [Y/N] from her own thoughts, handing her his hand. A Joker offering his hand was in many ways the most dangerous thing he could do, his hand had a taunt to it, something that would drive any sane civilian insane. Between a clown and a showman this taunt became much more personal, especially when they were equally insane. [Y/N] places her hand in Joker's; the taunt was irresistible. Come, show me. Let me put you on display for this is our Gotham. [Y/N] stepped onto the ledge with the man who claimed her as his equal, a relationship never spoken yet known between both parties. A slow waltz between the two came to fruition after [Y/N] learned her balance. The slow movement matched what could have been Moonlight Sonata (First Movement). The night sky and slow movement made them cling to each other as if life could decide to throw them both off the edge. The night time breeze became a wind setting a romantic scene. Without death to the underlings of Gotham this moment would not exist: the perfect moment between man and woman.The feeling of being without restrictions, without law, and without those troubles that keep children up at night. The real nightmares of Gotham were sleeping, plotting, or dancing on the ledge of a skyscraper. Gotham is a city of beauty and love with corruption, in so many ways being a villain was an act of the truest love.

“Must we leave so soon?” [Y/N] frowned as she brought the flashing blue and red lights to Joker’s attention. The innocence of the moment ruined by the GCPD and a frown. 

“We can continue later, as for now we must exit our stage.” Joker held his hand that was intertwined with [Y/N]’s over the concrete ground of the building. In a simple gesture to help her down from the ledge before hopping down himself. [Y/N] guided him toward the emergency stairwell, her hand still in his per his silent request. The current chaos of the police being at the scene yet slipping away as though they had never been there after a dance had humor to it. They both ran down the emergency stairwell dreading the echoing of their feet and Joker’s uncontrollable laughter. Soon enough they both had made their getaway with the help of some man Joker held at gunpoint so they could arrive back home safely. 

“Such a shame.” [Y/N] took Joker’s gun and killed the man before exiting the car. A place of safety should never be at risk. A person of safety should be accompanied when thrown back into Arkham... Given why crime lords work with others to take the fall. [Y/N] walked into their current safe place and placed a vinyl on the old record player. She watched as the vinyl spun and classical came out in return, safe at last. In the criminal world of Gotham there weren’t many places you could be safe when your name was in the five o'clock news every night. Joker took [Y/N]’s hand into his and spun her into him finishing the dance they enjoyed. There was something intimate rather than romantic about the shared dance in a different light. Very clearly there was a line drawn of where Joker stood in this relationship of sorts and when he could cross said line. He pulls [Y/N] closer to him as they dance, he spun her once pulling her back into him before dipping her and catching her with his palm on her lower back. A bow of sorts to conclude another day of which they lived, and no show was complete without some sort of kiss between the main characters. A kiss that sealed the fate of each character, in this specific instance the fate of jokes, crime, and the impending doom of death. [Y/N] wraps her arms around Joker’s neck as he removes his hand from her back, a test of his strength as they both focus on locking in each other's fate. What an irony. 

[annika-thelostlove]

The second time, you chose right - part 2 // Edward nashton x fem!reader NSFW 18+

Word count / 3454

Summary / In an Alternate timeline Edward Nashton quits his job as a forensic accountant in Gotham city to become an IT support for a lawfirm.

After finally getting your chance with him, you worry that there are no happy endings for the likes of you. Is it too much to wish for a fairytale ending?

Authors note / Some smut in this chapter. It's my first try sorry. There's plenty of areas I think could use some more adjustment, but I'll be very busy soon and so wanted to push this one out before life takes over. I hope you like the ending 💕

Warnings / unprotected sex. Mentions of previous murder and other crimes. And lots of pining. 😅

Link to part 1

Edward was just excited to be here. He never thought with his lack of a collage degree he could get a well paying job for doing the most mundane tasks. Though he was an accountant for a long time, his real interest was coding and programming computers. Now he's got all of it, a good salary doing what he actually likes. 

Helping Batman was the reason he's here, he's sure of it. He doesn't know what kind of connections a man that dresses like a bat and executes justice at night could have, but Edward didn't question it. One day he got a message that a company is poaching him to work for them in their IT department. 

The little welcome party for him and a few other newbies is a pretty good sign of a much better company than his last one. He tries to smile at as many as he can muster.

This is his second chance at a normal life, he's gonna put some effort into it. A riddle is at the tip of his tongue. Breathe. 

She walks right up to him and introduces herself. She's a pretty little thing with crooked teeth. How can he get so lucky? Right now he can't get any higher. What a wondrous feeling. 

She answers his riddle correctly, what a wonderful smile. Oh, what a wonderful smile indeed. He looks at your face a second time, but this time he sees something like hope in the shine of your eye. And Edwards' heart is weak for hope. Always. And he falls for yours in that second. How lucky, to fall for hope, to fall in love so fast. 

He is the luckiest person in the world. 

__________

You are the most unlucky person in the whole world. Your heart finally in your arms, in his bed, so close finally at arms length. And the words lay at the tip of your tongue. To love him was really just an unattainable dream. 

When perhaps you only had right now to be together, and not ever get to see him grow old with you. 

Will this all you will get to have?

Edwards breath is at your cheek, you inhale him entirely. Kissing him, starved and desperate. His lips are soft and shy. But with a hidden restraint, he is holding himself back.

Your hands move from his face and rest on his warm chest. His heart thumping away. The smell of him intoxicates you, and you can't get enough. 

"Let me touch you, please. Please eddie." He nods.

You both move gently, afraid that this is all a dream, clothes were shyly discarded and insecurities were confronted with courage for the first time. You praised him, worshipped his body, and Edward has never felt so much love like this before. Overwhelmed, tears flowed freely as you rode him, he whimpered loudly, the sound of him going straight to your core that was currently stuffed to the brim of him. You fought the words that are stuck in your throat, I love you. 

Instead you moaned at every downward stroke. Balancing your palms on his smooth chest, the sounds in the room are lewd, it fills the space as he meets your hips with his own thrusts, the wet slaps match with the jiggle of his belly and thighs. Fuck he feels so good. 

Then caught by surprise by your sudden orgasam, you begin to shake and squeeze, you were at the mercy of it, there was nothing in your mind but Eddie under you and your own blinding pleasure. 

You hear him follow you only a moment after, his fingers digging into your hips to firmly keep you on his cock, spilling himself into you. His guttural cry and hot spurts of cum make you want to tip over the edge a second time.

After exploring each other a few more times that night, you sleep peacefully. Forgetting how temporary it all was.

________

When the morning came, you both woke up early to try to clean all evidence of last night. But soon after eating stale cereal, it was promptly ignored on the table in place of eddie fucking you on the carpet between his dining and living room. It was just a quick tug of his boxers, just enough opening of fabric to enter you raw. It was a lovely view to see your feet sway limply in the air behind his head. 

You were already late for work after that, and the rush to clean up the bathroom ended up with both of you looking into the mirror, you bent forward with one hand gripping the sink, and the other hand on his hip thrusting into you from behind. His face as he comes in you is quickly becoming your favourite image.

The train ride to work was electric, there was a crackling energy that was felt when you held hands sitting beside each other. The others sitting in the cart with their glum faces, they must be so unfortunate to not know the happiness you both were feeling.

Edward taps your arm to get your attention, he looks shy despite him railing you in his bathroom less than an hour ago.

"Do you want to play a game with me?" He turns the screen of his phone to you, showing a page of digital crossword. 

"Yeah, let's play"

The next 30 minute train ride was full of giggles and whispered answers. People were staring, and it made you laugh even more. You held Edwards arm tighter, his shoulder is so warm under your cheek. Who cares what they think.

Edward certainly didn't care, he looked at you like you hung the sun. 

Your coworkers are surprised and happy for the two of you coming to work together hand in hand. You give him a kiss on the cheek before he leaves for his desk. Right when you sat down one of your coworkers ran up to you and squealed happily while you blushed. 

Edward saw the whole thing from his desk. He is surprised, how did he not see your feelings before? A few others seem to have known you have been trying to get his attention for months now. He gets embarrassed thinking back to all your attempts of asking him out. He was just an insecure idiot. He laughs.

______

Midday comes and reality quickly catches up to both of you. Edward can see you from his chair, your earbud is in one ear, just like he has, intently listening to news headlines. The lines between your brows tells him you're on the same station. 

He can see it, the gradual descent of your happy mood from this morning. Absent eyes towards your screen, not truly reading anything. Then slowly your head lowers to hide what attempt at a neutral expression you had left. Your shoulders rise and fall, methodically at your attempt of control. You're okay. That's it. Breathe. 

He saw it, that broken piece of sanity just at the crook of your lip. He's seen that type of despair before, he's seen it in the mirror. 

You look up towards him, a habit of yours to find some sense of peace, and you catch that he's already looking at you. You quickly smile for him. And it pains him to know you're breaking beneath the surface. 

"Expert forensic scientist have been analyzing initial evidence from the scene of the murder last night. It is yet to be confirmed, but first observations indicate that their suspicions do not align with the detective's investigation. There are still polarising opinions of the cause of death for this infamous member of the mob. Is it an assassination, or self-defense? The name of 2017s mob hitman, 'the pusher killer' is circulating this story, it's certainly a name that many of Maronis people fear. But is this the work of a seasoned killer? And what will it mean for the people of gotham? We'll get back to you with this investigation at 6".

Your old title makes your hand tremor above your keyboard. You've always hated that title. The pusher killer. Or the silencer, retribution. 

You've dreaded this day, your name back in everyone's mouths. You thought you killed her, the old you, left her behind. The last traces of her faded when you met Edward. At least you thought it did.

They'll find out, find out what you did, and put you away. Give me the chair. Like they always said they would. 

I earned it

A Crack of a smile plays on your lips. Some part of the old you is seeping through the cracks. It was always going to be me and the chair.

Immediately you stop smiling. It's me and Edward now. Edward is here, I love Edward. He deserves someone who can protect him.

He is in the midst of this now. A victim of your doing. Clenching a fist. When it comes down to it, you will take the fall. You will do it all to protect him.

Edward senses you're not well. He looks at your rapidly changing expressions throughout the day. 

The next few hours you get worse as the news articles cover the investigation. You fidget all day, and you hum without melody. 

At 4pm Edward brings you a coffee in his favourite mug. It brings a smile to your face. He sits down on the little stool beside you. "Will you tell me what worries you, my angel?"

Immediately your face falls and he sees the darkness brewing behind your eyes, but the most prominent expression is one of longing. You reach out and hold the side where his face meets his neck, you could feel that he is trembling. Brows crooked and drawn together, his own fears unsaid. He closes his eyes, inhaling the moment. 

"Eddie-" He tenses in anticipation. "Tonight. We should meet at the diner before midnight. You know, the one I invited you to? Wait for me there. I'll tell you the answer to your question. If- if i don't show it means–" her voice cracks. "Just don't be afraid, don't come looking if I don't make it."

"Darling, please don't hide what it is, let me help you, I can help you" He begs. Somehow he'll get them out of this situation, he knows the vigilante batman, he knows the secrets of the rich and politicians of Gotham, he will blackmail them if he must to make this murder disappear. 

"Just, Eddie, please the diner, it will be safe there." She is tense like she's ready to run. And Edward can see it. Another person fleeing from him. Because no one really ever stays.

_____

So you go to your separate apartments after work. He tried to catch her eye when you rushed out of work, but you didn't have the courage. Edward is sad, and holding on to just a little hope left that you still want him, that you will show.

His commute home was nothing like this morning. He was thrown back to being invisible. 

Getting home, he jumps on this computer, doing the thing he does best. He had dirt on the lead detective of this case. What little power he has as Nigma, he uses for you, but he knows it's not enough to sway your heart to choose him in the end.

He thinks he must be the problem. He's a freak. He's too much. He stabbed someone. He's been wanting to kill someone for so long, and he lost that fight. He should be put away, he's a reject. You hate him. You think he's ugly, that he was a bad lover. Nobody wants him. He's not enough. He's not enough, he's not enough. 

None of it makes any more sense, but his heart aches, believing every lie he punishes himself with. 

Breathe Breathe breathe 

But hot tears run down his face and seeps into his shirt

He thinks about your arms, your embrace, your kiss to his hairline. There's something, a hope, that maybe you love him. Even if it's just a little. 

He clenches his hands on his lap. Edward can't take it, the waiting. He doesn't know how to survive it this time.

Edward opens a new window and puts on the 6pm news. Perhaps his blackmailing has worked in your favour. 

"...-says likely, only one person acted alone. With an eye witness stating they saw one large man exiting the alley at 11pm last night.--" 

Edward exhales a little from the detour to the investigation. Yet no relief comes.

"The victim had many enemies to his name. An assassination is high on the cause for this type of homicide."

"The pusher killer, also known as the silencer, is high on the list of possible suspects. This killer 5 years ago targeted men like this victim tonight. Preying on the heads of the powerful mafia group under the Maroni organisation. Perhaps they've come back to collect the lives they didn't get" 

Jumping out of his chair, at only 8pm with an empty stomach, he leaves for the diner. Helplessly, he waits for you. 

_____

You are at your apartment after watching the 6pm news at full volume, frantically packing your emergency bag. There's no time to lose, they keep repeating your name over and over. Eventually they'll find it was you. They'll take everything, you'll be left with nothing either way. But if you leave now Eddie should be safe. You rip frames and posters on the wall and pile it in a box. And you speed out to a near under bridge, taking your lighter along with you. 

Throwing the box down into a metal drum, you flick the lighter on. Unsuccessfully, you try again and again till your thumb heats up and stings.

In frustration you throw the lighter at your pile of belongings. The pain teases its way behind your eyes. 

You can't do it. 

Standing under a highway bridge with your heart in your throat, sobs rip through you as you curl over yourself sitting on your heels. Wailing all your hurt into the sounds of the night. You cry out and the sound of the highway swallows it up. You're inconsolable for a while. Unable to destroy this life where you were the happiest, and you finally found someone to stay for. 

You can't run. No. Not now.

You get back to your apartment and throw your things on the floor. It was time to accept who you are. 

_______

You find yourself outside the diner, looking at Edward through the window. He's here. Sitting alone at the counter. The lights inside are bright and hide you out in the dark rain. His hair looks so soft, you remember the smell of it. You don't know how long he's been waiting there, but his coffee is untouched and he looks over at the TV monitor every now and again. His hands fidget anxiously under the table.

Despite how distressed he looks. You smile. And your eyes water. He came. And waited. You don't think you'll ever love someone more than this. And you don't know if he'll still love you when you tell him the truth.

_____

Edward waits, he looks at the clock 11:47 and his hand shakes.

It feels just like midnight at the orphanage, another empty bed beside him. Adopted, but never him. He realises he's known the feeling of heartbreak all his life. He only recognizes the feeling now.

The diner is empty except for him and one person working on cleaning machines in the kitchen. When he hears a timid knocking on the window.

He turns quickly, shocked and relieved to see you standing there in the cold. He gives you a small tight lipped smile.

Clambering off the seat, he carefully makes his way out the door.

"You came" standing in front of you, his relief was palpable in his voice. 

"I had to. Had to…" finishing your sentence by grabbing his jacket tightly in your hands and tugging him closer.

The tears spring out so fast, your vision of your lover grows blurry. "Eddie…I'm sorry I made you wait. I, I was just afraid. You won't want me. You shouldn't. I'll hurt you. You, you won't want what I am. The truth." 

He says "angel, please tell me." His eyes water as he sees you so distraught. You took a moment. A pause to contemplate everything you feel into a few words.

"I love you. That's the truth."

The expression he makes is so happy, you forget the rain pouring around you. He takes you in his arms, embracing you tightly. 

Trembling from what you have to say. You whisper in his ear. 

"You must already know by now. Who I am. I'm that killer eddie. The one they talk about on the news. I did those things, killed those men. I did it silently, so many have died because of me. I'm so sorry my love" voice breaking at every few words.

He freezes. 

You cry harder as you embrace him perhaps for the last time.

He pulls you away and holds you at arms length. He drops his hands. Looking at you with an unreadable expression. 

"You. You are the angel of Gotham. Your crimes inspired so many, they say Batman took after you. Before vengeance, there was retribution. There was you."

"I'm sorry. Edward, p-please understand I'm not that anymore. I've left it behind-"

"It's destiny! All of it! Me, you, vengeance! Its fate for the two of us to meet, for our love to exist!" 

His hands on each side of your face, you see him shine through his closed lipped smile. A sparkle in his eyes, till he pulls you hard into a deep smouldering kiss. 

"I knew it. I knew it was worth the years of waiting for something big to happen, for my life to have purpose bigger than what I had for so long! To meet the bat, who you inspired, for him to lead me to quit my old job, find a better career, to have met you here, for maronis man to be our victim in the ally that night, to finally be together with you. DESTINY!!" He yells into the night, and begins to laugh through his tears. "Darling, darling you must know who I am, I am nigma." The name sparks something in you.

"Sweetheart, I swear, it's destiny."

"Nigma? The enigma of the dark web?"

"Yes"

"Edward, you're my hero." You whisper and softly laugh. "And you're my…" you're mine.

A knowing look passes between you, teary eyed and smiling. 

How could such happiness happen to two lonely people? It must be by design. This was their reward, their reward for suffering for so long till tonight. 

The light switches colour inside the diner. While the TV begins to show the midnight news, the volume increases, the cook has come out to watch it, unknowing that the two were watching along with him.

"Welcome to gotham news at midnight. The Batman now has allegedly stepped in the mobb stabbing case, stating and providing evidence that the pusher killer has very little to do with this case. It is observed to be highly unusual involvement for the batman. But again he refuses to make a public statement, but the evidence he's provided undeniably says enough to cross out the pusher killer as a suspect. It seems authorities don't fully understand why a masked vigilante should be defending this infamous killer that's been rumoured to have been dead for years. It simply adds to the mystery of the dark knight. And why we should not–" 

You and Edward look up at the diner tv screen in awe. And you cannot believe it yourself. 

A second time, the hope incarnate has saved you again. And you can help but think that second chances are like miracles in itself. You catch Edwards eyes behind the glare of his glass, and your own face must reflect the same cocktail of emotions.

His lips begin to form words, but he stops, smiles and tries again. "I love you." He finally feels enough to say.

The feeling of emerging out of water, washes over you both, like the weight of so much is lifting. As if the sun is directly overhead, and you can breathe once more.

You laugh "still?"

You reach for his hand, but he has a better idea, he pulls you into an embrace and spins you right there by the light of diners window. Laughter filling the empty space of midnight. 

What a wonderous feeling, to be free. 

Link to part 1

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

I'm Not Sick (Dick Grayson Drabble)

Fandom: DC, Batman, Dick Grayson, Nightwing, gn!reader

Word Count: 543

Notes: Fluff, Reader has a cold, Hurt/Comfort

“Dick, I’b fide!” you whined nasally through your clogged nose as you tried to march down the stairs to the Batcave, but Dick grabbed your arm.

“You are not fine. I can barely understand you through that stuffy nose. Now go back to bed right now!” Dick demanded as he pointed up towards the bedroom.

You crossed your arms defiantly across your chest. “I’b dot a little kid. You cad’t tell be what to do.”

“Want to bet?” Dick frowned. “Don’t think I won’t throw you over my shoulder and drag you back upstairs. And in your current condition, I doubt there’s much you could do to try and stop me.”

Giving him the most stubborn look you could muster, you tried to push past Dick. But just then a shiver tore through you so violently that you almost collapsed to the floor. Luckily, he was close enough that he managed to steady you before you fell. Concerned, he placed his hand on your forehead and his frown deepened.

“Baby, I think you need to go to the hospital. You’re really burning up.”

“I said I’b fide. Besides, I dod’t ever get sick.” But instead of continuing to fight back, you leaned your head weakly against Dick’s chest.

“You were captured and held in Mr. Freeze’s lair for two days. It makes sense that anyone stuck in that setting would catch a cold. That doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human.” He rubbed your back gently. “So, what do you say?”

“Cad you just take be to by roob?” You mumbled softly into his chest.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.”

Dick would have felt a lot better having you checked out by a doctor, but at the moment, he would take what he could get. So, gathering your shivering form into his arms, he began the long climb up the stairs towards your room.

As he carried you, you muttered, “Do you thidk Alfred could bake that soup I like?”

“I’m sure he can. I’ll ask him once I get you settled.” You softly hummed your thanks.

 When Dick finally made it to your room, he carried you inside and laid you down on the bed.  After tugging off your boots and peeling off your jacket, he covered you with your blanket and started to back out of the room.

“Cad you stay?” came a small voice from the darkness.

“I thought you wanted soup?” Dick asked.

“I do, but I wadt you bore.”

Dick smiled and reentered the room. “Of course, baby. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

He paused, quickly scrawling something on the notepad laying on your desk before placing it outside the door. Then Dick crawled into bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight against his chest. You snuggled gratefully into his arms and in no time, you were both fast asleep.

An hour later, Alfred happened to be walking by your room on his way downstairs when something caught his eye. He picked up the notepad that was leaning against your door and chuckled softly to himself as he read the note scribbled in Master Dick’s handwriting. Changing directions, he headed down to the kitchen to prepare your requested meal.

Tag List: @loverhymeswith, @edwardbaldwin, @sunshineflowerchild789, @blue-aconite, @happinessricardotapia

[squigleyssnakesfics]

Don’t haunt me in the door

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Gen

Fandoms: DCU (Comics)Batman - All Media TypesBatman (Comics)White Collar (TV 2009)Nightwing (Comics)Grayson (Comics)

Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke & Dick Grayson

Characters: Dick Grayson, Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Damian Wayne, Elizabeth Burke (White Collar)

Additional Tags: Neal Caffrey and Dick Grayson are the Same Person, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne's Parent, Romani Dick Grayson, Fluff, Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort

Language: English

Words: 1178

The child sat by her mum’s side with a straight back and neat hair and clothes. Her expression was open and honest in a way that reminded Dick of Cassandra. Until she started speaking of course.

“What my mother means, Mr Burke, is that there is no way that the painting could have been stolen from our house without her knowing, and yet the painting is evidently not the same. My mother’s current theory is that my Father stole it and replaced it with a different painting.”

Dick watched Peter’s jaw flop open. The woman barely moved at her daughter’s abruptness and vocabulary.

It was all rather reminiscent of the relationship he had had to leave behind when Dick was forced into this assignment: A child who had seemingly swallowed a dictionary and their exhausted but fairly used to it parent.

It made Dick feel so unguarded and at home that he couldn’t help but smile softly and turn towards the girl, “you know,” he said, “you speak just like someone i know.”

The little Girl tilted her head, a silent cue to continue talking, something Damain always used to do to him, trusting that he’d understand what he meant. “My kid's just a little older than you now. He always liked to tell me that my vocabulary was ‘inferior’ to his,” Dick chuckled a little, bittersweet about the child, and the woman turned to him now too.

“Amy often says similar things to me. It’s all, ‘Mother, your lack of knowledge in this field astounds me,’ and, ‘No James, don’t ask Mother for help with that, she is incompetent when it comes to English grammar and syntax’.”

Dick laughed loudly, “my kid won’t accept any help on his english homework from me anymore. He'd accept help with the EAL/D homework though, but I guess that’s just because I'm the only other non-native English speaker in the family. He certainly doesn’t need help with it though.”

The woman laughed too and Dick looked around and his eyes landed on Peter. As soon as he caught Peter’s eyes he knew that he’d fucked up and let slip something he most certainly should not have. The existence of Damian. Neal stopped smiling.

Peter’s eyes were wide and his mouth still hung open, stunned by the new information about his CI and his personal life. He watched as Peter stood up, gripped Dick’s wrist in one hand, excused them both and pushed Dick out into the hallway.

“You have a kid?” Peter whispered and if Dick didn’t know any better he’d say he was angry.

“Uuuummm…” Dick drew out, “no?”

Peter wasn’t buying it, “you just said that you have a kid who speaks just like that little girl in there. You gave specifics!”

Dick blinked a few times, “You know what, Peter, just forget about it. You don’t need to know that I have a kid, I don't need you to know I have a kid.”

“Forget about it? Forget about it?!” Peter’s voice rose in volume.

“Neal, you had a kid this whole time and I had no idea! I thought I was the one person you trusted. I took a kid’s father away from him. Twice!”

Dick winced, the last one stung, because really, Peter hadn’t taken Dick away from Damian, Bruce had, when he’d told Dick about his assignment, and Dick had when he’d accepted it.

Dick hadn’t seen Damian in so long, Damian probably still thought he was dead. Dick didn’t even get to say hello to Damian after he’d come back from Spyral before he’d been shoved around and into another undercover job again.

It had been so long since he’d seen his son. And Damian had been his. He had been his and he had been small and scared and then they’d bonded and became father and son and Bruce came back and ripped his whole life out from under his feet and it hadn’t felt fair.

And then Damian had died and come back and Dick hadn’t even gotten over his grief yet before he had died and come back and not been able to see his family, see his son. And Bruce had just kept ripping everything out from under him.

Dick blinked back tears and faced towards Peter again, they had both been silent for an uncomfortably long moment, and now it was time for that silence to break.

“I’m sure he’s probably fine,” Dick crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, trying to dismiss Peter’s previous words and thoughts.

This made Peter’s frown grow deeper, “when was the last time you saw him?”

At this Dick couldn’t hold his tears back, he didn’t even need to think about the answer, it had been an internal timer keeping going in his heart since the moment he had died, “2 years,” he choked out. But Dick could get even more specific than that if he wanted to: 2 years, 49 days… too fucking long if you asked him.

Strong arms yanked Dick forward into a hug and a voice murmured into his ear, “I’m sorry… I could take you to see him if you’d like?”

Dick straightened and gently pushed Peter away from him, not allowing himself the comfort Peter had offered him, in either of the forms it took, “no,” he shook his head, not meeting Peter’s eyes, “his biological dad wont let me see him anyway. I’m pretty sure he thinks I'm dead. And I think he’d be really pissed if I just showed up after all this time.”

Peter nodded, “Well, one day I’m gonna meet that kid,” he resolved, “one day I’m gonna get you back to your kid.”

Dick just nodded, smiling sadly.

— — —

Peter was sitting in his living room, reading a newspaper, El was wandering back from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in her hand. He watched her take a sip and sit down. He waited until she set down the cup before he closed his newspaper suddenly and said, “Did you know Neal has a kid?”

“Neal has a what?!” El replied, thoroughly confused.

“A child. He has a son.”

“What do you know about him?” El turned in her seat to face Peter, invested in this new information.

“That he’s older than 12, he’s not biologically Neal’s, English isn’t his first language, he thinks Neal is dead, Neal hasn’t seen him in two years and his biological father won’t let Neal anywhere near him.”

“You’re gonna get involved in this aren’t you?”

“Oh absolutely, Elizabeth.”

[superklutzkent]

that look in your eyes (is so familiar) || chapter 2

[Chapter 1]

Summary: Clark has a brief talk with Bruce, and an even briefer one with Batman.

excerpt below the cut

“...Bruce?”

Clark was at a complete loss for words, he was confused, to put it simply.

Bruce Wayne was a lot of things, at least from what he knew about the guy based on the many articles online. He'd scoured the web for as much information as possible and every single column that he'd read had come to draw the same conclusion. That Bruce was just your average billionaire, CEO, playboy, you name it. In every single piece of media, he looked the same, wearing a fine black suit and tie with slicked back hair and a charming smile lighting up his youthful face. Perhaps there were the odd photos where paparazzi had caught him off guard and he looked less formal, but still he looked like the dazzling Wayne that everyone knew.

But nobody had ever laid eyes upon the Bruce that Clark was currently staring at with a baffled expression at this very moment.

“Oh hey B, you didn't tell me we had a visitor today!” The kid chirped, skipping over towards him with a delighted look on his face. Bruce didn't move, he continued to stare at Clark, shell-shocked. Clearly he hadn't been expecting him, or he hadn't been expecting him so soon. Though surprisingly he'd managed to make it on time, despite all of the prior setbacks.

The kid had to be no older than twelve from what Clark could gather, maybe close to thirteen judging by his height. He had scruffy jet black hair which stuck out in all directions, only slightly dampened by the rain outside. His eyes were sky blue, not as blue as Bruce's were, but still bright and full of youthful innocence and wonder that Clark hoped would never be broken. The boy flashed him a toothy smile.

“Ah, Master Bruce,” Alfred entered, holding a pile of clothes in one hand, “you're just in time.” Bruce looked away from him, then to Alfred before he dropped the bags to the floor and dragged a hand across his face. 

“You were supposed to remind me.” Bruce muttered, briefly glaring at the older man. 

“Well I assumed you would remember.”

Bruce gave another heavy sigh before he turned back to Clark, he gave him a smile that seemed rather sheepish and took a step closer towards him. Clark could feel the embarrassment rolling off the other man in waves, he could see the slight flush of color in his cheeks, which was most likely due to the coldness outside. It was nearing mid November after all, and Winter in Gotham was brutal from what he'd heard. Though it wasn't like this cold, grim weather was strange for the city. In fact, Clark couldn't recall if Gotham had ever had a single sunny day when he'd visited, he'd certainly never seen the stars here.

Bruce stood a few feet away from him now, the last traces of nervousness left his eyes and his stance returned to that familiar one he'd seen when they'd first met. Clark noticed how quickly Bruce guarded himself, how he'd gone from his quick panic to the silent demeanor he had now. Instead he returned to his closed off state, with an apologetic look in his gaze.

“I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Kent,” Bruce began, there was a slight mumble to his voice that made it deeper for a second. It was so familiar… The way he'd spoken, but he couldn't quite place why it felt as if he'd heard that tone before. He was shaken out of his thoughts when Bruce cleared his throat and spoke again in a lighter tone, “admittedly I forgot about our interview, I had… Other duties to attend to.” He said, his eyes swiftly moving to the boy who was smiling up at them both with an unreadable look in his eyes and an impish grin lighting up his features.

“Please, call me Clark,” he replied softly, Bruce's eyes fell back on him and he nodded once, a faint smile pulling at his lips. Clark's heart fluttered again, “and it's fine, really, if you're too busy right now we can always reschedule for another time.”

[isfjmel-phleg]

Random comic issues from the local antique store: an overview, part 4/5

Batman #480 (June 1992). I had read this one before, digitally, and was glad to find it (and in decent condition, compared to the others I picked up) because it's such an important issue for understanding Tim's relationship with his father--a role which is becoming increasingly transferred to another man.

Tim's father, Jack Drake, is still in the hospital, needing to use a wheelchair and sometimes oxygen, but he's been allowed to go on an outing with Tim to visit Janet Drake's grave--only to find that her headstone has been vandalized by a gang who left behind their markings. Jack is very upset by this and declares that he wants whoever did this to be caught. His rage escalates into panic, and Tim (who, by the way, is about thirteen or fourteen at this point) has to administer oxygen and calm him down. Jack is grateful for the help and ready to finally put some effort into being a father--and this worries Tim, who by now is very committed to his secret new life as Robin.

From here on, the story is interspersed with excerpts from an emotionally raw letter Tim is writing to his dad. (I'll give you the whole letter at the end, hold on.)

A little later, the Drakes are back at the hospital, and Jack, who will be discharged the next day, expresses relief that as of tomorrow Tim will no longer "be imposing on Bruce Wayne." He thinks that Bruce, "a womanizer--a playboy," is a bad influence on Tim. Tim tries to stick up for Bruce, but Jack's not having it. (A bit jealous of the man who seems to have replaced him in his son's affections?)

The CEO of Drake Industries stops by and mentions that Tim will be working for the business part-time starting the next week. Tim's reply is a shocked "I am?" but he's quick to dutifully add, "I mean, of course, whatever my father wants."

Later, Alfred, driving Tim back to the manor, asks if he will be moving out. Tim, looking downcast, explains that his dad wants to move back to their penthouse, even if it's not the most convenient location for a wheelchair-user. Alfred is just as upset about this as Tim, possibly more. Tim's trying his best to maintain an air of cynical acceptance.

...but he privately has no intention of leaving his new life.

As they drive on, Tim has Alfred suddenly stop the car. He's spotted the gang that vandalized his mother's grave, and he confronts them (still in his civilian identity, of course) and leaves them temporarily incapacitated in an alley. Alfred suggests that this is a "last hurrah" for him, but Tim insists that he's still planning to go on patrol tonight.

As the sun goes down, Alfred addresses his concerns to Bruce. He thinks a boy Tim's age "should be going out, dancing, socializing, making friends!" Bruce agrees but points out that it was Tim who was so adamant about becoming Robin, even when Bruce tried to dissuade him. Alfred says it will be especially hard for Tim having to take care of his father on top of his other obligations: "The boy will never have a chance to lead even a semblance of an ordinary life!" And Bruce replies with the same words as Tim earlier, "Whoever said life was fair, Alfred?"

When Tim arrives, Bruce tries to let him off for the night, but Tim insists, "No. I should be out there. It's my job." Bruce asks again if he's sure he's up to it. "Positive," Tim says. "Why? Don't you think I am?"

Alfred is still concerned.

On patrol, Bruce and Tim are looking into suspicious activity from the gang of vandals. While they wait, Tim brings up his current dilemma.

"Won't hurt this once"? Although Bruce is willing to listen, he's not setting himself up as someone easy to be emotionally close with. Maybe he's trying to avoid getting too attached to another Robin. Maybe he doesn't want to encroach on a role that should be Tim's father's. Maybe some of both. Whatever the case, he's not giving any advice.

Tim wants so badly to be able to tell his father the truth! But first there are more pressing concerns.

Turns out the gang is in cahoots with Drake Industries' CEO, who has been embezzling and is hoping to be able to blame it on Tim before anyone finds out what he's been doing. And of course, Batman and Robin put a stop to this. (Tim gets a probably very satisfying chance to beat up the CEO.)

Bruce offers to take Tim home, but Tim wants to "make my own way tonight" and swings off across the Gotham skyline.

Back at the manor that morning, he finishes and seals his letter. On his way out, he stops to speak to Bruce.

Before he leaves, he throws his letter, addressed "to the Father I never knew," on the fire. "Just something I had to get out of my system," he says.

In the car, Alfred hands him an ad for a "spacious mansion" for sale. "I thought the country air might be good for your father's health," he says. "And of course, as it's right next door to Master Bruce's...well, it might be good for yours, too!" Tim, looking over his shoulder at Wayne Manor, promises to work on his father.

This is Tim's letter:

Dear Dad,

I wish we could go back and start over again! When I was a kid, I used to dream--to pray--that you and mom would stop travelling, forget business and just settle down. We'd be together, the way a family ought to be...

Now I have my wish. I'm going to be with you all the time. And it's tearing me apart.

Funny, how once you never seemed to care--at least, you never showed me that you did. And now you want to ruin my Life.

Do you really think we can start over...?

I've no idea who you think I am, Dad--but I'm not that boy. I had to fend for myself for a long time. I changed, Dad. I have a lot of...secrets.

You couldn't be more wrong about Bruce Wayne. Despite what he seems, he is the only truly great man I have ever known. He...helps people. And he never asks for anything in return.

I'm not interested in your business, Dad. I've already found my place in the world.

I know what I want to be!

So how does it sound, Dad? Your own son is Robin. Understand now why I can't come back? Gotham is a cesspool. Tragedy stalks on every street. I can help, dad. I'm needed!

Strange, how you can come to love a city. Even one as ugly and rotten as Gotham.

All those millions of people, the lines of their lives crossing, touching, tangling...almost as if the city itself is alive.

I love you, Dad--but I've found my place. I know who I am.

I'm part of my city.

Sometimes I wish we could start over...but I know we can't. We have to take things from exactly where we are.

This might not make a lot of sense to you. I only hope you understand.

Your loving son,

Tim

This is such a sad issue...because I've read a lot of Tim's solo, which picks up not long after this, and it really doesn't get better between Tim and his dad. The secrets and lies pile up, they don't understand each other because there's a vital piece of communication missing, and Tim gets increasingly stressed trying to juggle both his lives and fulfil obligations to two father figures.

Despite the risks involved, the best solution would have been for Tim and Bruce together to let Jack in on the secret early on and figure things out from there. That's something a parent has a right to know, especially if his child's safety is an issue, and Bruce, who himself is a parent and has lost a child, ought to understand that.

Instead (from what I understand, I haven't read this far), Jack finds out by accident, after his distrust of his son and resentment of Bruce Wayne have had years to build up and fester, and his reaction is Not Good. By the time he finally starts to accept Tim's being Robin...he's killed.

But that's the tragedy of these stories. Inability to communicate and trust leads to a lot of hurt.

Bonus from the "Bat-Signals" page of letters from readers: one reader writes, "IF TIM DRAKE DOESN'T RETURN TO THIS TITLE IN THE NEXT ISSUE, I AM SENDING LOBO AFTER YOU GUYS!!!" (This, of course, was years before Tim would have a young Lobo for a teammate.)

Next time: and now for something completely different--a Superman issue, featuring Kon in a supporting role.