#i had fun writing from wayne's pov in the last one

[shares-a-vest]

Eddie and Steve's apartment morphs into what can only be described as a baby-proofed cluttered mess when Joanie enters their lives. And it only gets worse once she starts crawling.

Wayne discovers this when he arrives for a short stay over after being called up by the boys, proudly announcing their daughter began getting around on her own.

He chuckles as he looks around the cramped and crowded apartment. He suspects its more a case of keeping necessities within convenient arms reach than anything else. Plus, giving the kid the run of the place.

The dining table is a sight, covered in textbooks and paperwork from Steve's studies. And judging by the highchair set up close to the only cleared dining chair, she must be keeping him company too.

Steve gives a hurried, “Hi” and rushes to said table, collecting up his work to organise into one pile.

The living room is another story.

Each piece of furniture is pushed to the edges of the small room, like it's bursting at the seams and ready to explode out the windows. Everything is out of reach too, including the relatively harmless television remote.

Relatively harmless when you consider Eddie once dunked Wayne's remote into a short-lived fish tank years back...

His old coffee table is pushed up against the wall, making space for a playpen. In the centre of the room is a playmat, where his granddaughter is rolling around as that demonic black cat, Ozzy, examines her from after before vaulting over the couch and disappearing completely.

God knows where that other grey nightmare has got to.

“We live on the floor now,” Eddie enthuses, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Steve grumbles and nods with grave seriousness as he appears next to him. Despite the good thirty years between them, on a bad day, Steve suffers from the same level of back pain.

“Come on,” Eddie beams, “I gotta show you all the stuff Joanie can do.”

His nephew puffs out his chest, proud.

Wayne smiles. He gets it, he really does. Even though he didn’t become Eddie’s legal guardian until the kid was ten, he’d spent enough time looking after him during the earlier milestones to take pride in them too.

“Eddie, our daughter isn’t a dog!” Steve chastises, pinching his nose.

“What?” Eddie feigns innocence, “I just want to show off all her tricks to her Pa!”

“If anything, that made her sound even more like a participant in a dog show!” Steve reiterates, glaring before lowering down at a snail's pace to join Joanie on the floor.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in with his typical lack of personal space, “He’s just grumpy because he has a bunch of studying to do this weekend.”

“I can hear you, Eddie!” Steve calls from his spot on the floor, “And I’ll have time for us to watch a game,” he looks at his surroundings and grimaces, “… Maybe we’ll go to a sports bar.”

Eddie practically lunges into the living area and bumps into Steve on his way to joining his family, almost toppling the boy sideways.

Wayne follows along slowly, his bad knee already paining him at the thought of sitting on the floor and also (mainly) the dread of somehow finding his way back up.

“You know you’re gonna have to help me up off this rug,” he gripes, sitting on the couch with a loud sigh, "If I had’a known I was gonna end up with a rambunctious granddaughter scuttlin’ around, I would’a billed that top-secret Doc for a knee replacement.”

His back pains a little as he goes, lowering to the floor as he braces himself with his arm on the couch.

“I can ask Nancy to look into that,” Steve offers as he spots him, “… If you want, of course!”

Wayne waves the boy away as he settles with his back against the couch.

Eddie soon slaps at his shoulder as Joanie rolls onto her stomach and pushes up with her hands.

They all sit up a little straighter eager and expectant.

Joanie takes off, crawling with vigour as she makes little grunting noises to spur herself on. She bypasses Steve, who whimpers with disappointment like a sad puppy. And she quickly zooms past Eddie too.

Wayne’s heart swells his granddaughter pauses to look up at him with a wide, toothy smile. But she goes on her way, making a beeline for a purple sparkly dragon plushie upended next to Steve's coveted recliner.

Of course that's what Eddie's offspring would prioritise getting her little hands on.

Joanie plops herself down, holding the toy up in victory as she makes spittle-filled whooshing noises and waves it about.

She remains with her back to the trio left for dust on the other side the living room, off in her own floor-based world.

More of this au HERE

[j0kers-light]

hi bae, ik youve been going thru a rough patch i hope(in fact ik) you’ll bounce back harder.🫶🏻

i really wanted to make a request for a long long time now, no pressure write it whenever u feel like it i am just going to drop it here.

for me J has always been a Lana del rey song specially the ultra violence album, he’s shades of blue, he’s ultraviolenec, smts hes even brooklyn baby. Can you write something dark, like real dark where hes possessive, violent, exatcly like he was in TDK. Pulling stunts and dropping hints. maybe he kidnappes the reader or smt like that, he’s acting all crazy and violent but something inside him just makes him slip to a lil caring or loving side every now and then, which eventually leads to some serious SMUT 😏😏

the reader could be his enemy’s daughter(maybe even batman’s daughter lol i am going wild) he tortures her,loves her, takes care of her then tortures her a lil more but make no mistake the reader is a fireball she gives him that lil fight they have in her which makes J even more attached to her.

ik i am just blabbing and making no sense, but i hope ukwim. i am also attaching a link to my fav J edit ever which might give u an outline of what i am trying to say. maybe even add J’s POV.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CqyP1PdveA9/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

okay ill shut up now. feel better love you 🫶🏻

His Lighthouse: Broken Dolls (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Broken Dolls - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

I feel ashamed that you had to wait so long for this request. Forgive me times a thousand @heathisbae !! I still love you and I got carried away with the word count. (10,500 words!!) I promise you that my blood, sweat, and tears went into this request. You should've let me stay in my enclosure. I LOVE DARK requests and I was in a dark and lonely place when I wrote this. The perfect mood for Broken Dolls.

Gather round children it’s time to go over some legal stuff. I usually do not care about trigger warnings. You are responsible for your own reading pleasure, BUT I’ll add a TW: List because yall gone need it. Chaos had a lil bit too much fun writing this one.. 👀😬

TW! Dark!Joker. rape, knife, blood, impact, choking, power play, dacryphilia, spitting, biting kinks, unprotected sex, overstimulation if you squint, degradation, no prep (foreplay is important kids) uhhhh… I’m missing something. 🤔 It’s canon Joker people. He’s a walking trigger warning.

Just be careful if you decide to read this one. I know I went overboard but your mental health is always my top priority. Enjoy or not. It’s entirely up to you. Since its a dark request, I decided not to tag anyone except @heathisbae Read at your own risk 🖤✨

Your father made it virtually impossible for anyone to find out. By fate’s design, you looked nothing like the iconic figure you called “father”, and you were forever grateful for that. 

Your skin complexion, eye, and hair color masked you from the surname that was your birthright. You were the rumored Wayne heiress that Gotham City whispered about. Many far and wide longed to meet you to strengthen their businesses by marriage, whereas others flat out questioned your conception.  

Bruce Wayne had neither confirmed nor denied the mother of any of his children to the world. Not like he ever would. There were only a few secrets Bruce had left in this world: you being the most important one.  

Your life would be in danger if anyone were to find out you were a Wayne or worse, the precious daughter of Batman.  

Many were adopted into the bat family, but you were blood to Bruce. A last-ditch effort he made to secure his family’s legacy; He hired a surrogate.  

Should Batman ever fall in combat, you could pick up the torch and continue the Wayne legacy.  

At an early age you wanted to make your father proud and wisely decided not to follow in his footsteps moonlighting as a vigilante. The eldest boys, Dick and Jason, celebrated for days. They loved their half-sister and supported every decision you make, but they would’ve put their foot down should you have wished to don a bat suit.  

Instead of violence, you dedicated your life to education. Only the best schools with full ride scholarships—your cv was lengthy as it was profound. You spoke multiple foreign languages, held many accreditations issued from all over the globe, and excelled at virtually every extra-curricular skill you could think of.  

You were a hardworking, driven woman with a no-nonsense attitude. That much, you got from your mother. 

You dominated any boardroom you entered, and your famous e/c eyes could make or break contracts with a single look. Now that was all your father’s genes. You gave the phrase, beauty and brains, a living breathing, mascot and Bruce couldn’t be prouder.  

That unfortunately made you a target.  

You shied away from public humanitarian appearances to avoid being recognized as a Wayne. Too many similarities with Bruce would make people curious. Instead, you worked behind a smokescreen and attended the many charities and sponsorship parties as a third-party spectator to oversee your work.  

That way, you got to see your hard work being implemented into the community—far better results than your father’s monetary donations provided.  

You took pride knowing your hard work was creating a change in Gotham City. With the safeguards Bruce and the boys had in place; it would take an actual genius to put the numerous clues together to uncover your identity. You could live in relative peace while still making a difference.  

Sadly, your long forgotten surrogate mother would soon threaten life as you knew it.  

Joker prided himself in being a vigilant man. Nothing, not even the smallest of details, went unnoticed by him and when it came to his best friend Batman, J took extra care to notice every little thing.  

The level of surveillance Joker did on the dark knight bordered on obsession but in a way, he was. Joker strived to be twelve steps ahead of his arch-nemesis in order to maintain his freedom. Being shipped back to Arkham was not an option, so he took information gathering very seriously.  

Joker knew that Batman was Bruce Wayne for years. He was surprised other Gotham villains or just the local law enforcement didn’t put the clues together. It was so obvious. 

There was no point in telling the world Batman’s not so little secret, but when Joker studied the daily life of Bruce Wayne a bit further, now that was a blackmail gold mine. Having a one up on Bats just felt good and especially when Joker discovered the perfect weapon that would break the man once and for all.  

You. 

Tucked away and hidden in plain sight; Y/n Wayne, the perfect tool for Joker’s plans.  

A father’s worst nightmare, seeing their child in distress, Joker looked forward to scaring Bruce with this latest prank. All he had to do was get close enough to steal you away, but Bruce kept you protected twenty-four seven. Smart man and Joker didn’t blame his bestie for being a protective father.  

There were dangerous people out there who would dream of your demise if they knew the truth! 

No, it was much easier to track down your mother and it was mere child’s play to make her talk. Joker thoroughly enjoyed extracting as much information from the woman before her untimely demise.  

He found it was unfair that she was virtually defenseless while you had security tighter than most world leaders. It wasn’t fair in Joker’s book, so he set out to put your safeguards to the test.  

And what achievement it was to outsmart Batman at his own game.  

You should’ve known better. Dad drilled it into your brain time and time again to always be aware of your surroundings.  

There was no such thing as a coincidence. Things happened for a reason, and it was up to you to detect any signs of danger at any given time.  

The same could be said for that fateful night. You were feeling a bit overwhelmed by a journalist at a charity event. She kept asking probing questions—a few hitting too close for comfort about your identity.  

How ironic that you attended every event the rumored Wayne heiress organized and knew so much about her personal affairs. What a coincidence how reporters asked you questions like you were the boss..  

The curious woman would not leave you alone! Her mindless chitchat felt more like an interrogation by the minute. You feared your identity was compromised after one of her questions rang true, but she simply laughed it off and said that if you were indeed a Wayne, “You’d be way prettier.”  

Whatever that meant.  

Perhaps the comment hit hard since your longtime friend/rival, Lana, stole attention from the fund raiser with her scandalous outfit. The brunette reeked of new money and had an ego the size of Metropolis, demanding attention wherever she went.  

Her appearance ruined your event for helping orphaned kids and turned it into a mini Met Gala. You had every right for storming out to scream into the back alley. She never failed at ruining things!  

You were really letting your frustration be heard when a whistle nearby startled you. 

“Listen to the pipes on that one.”  

You quickly stopped screaming once you realized that you weren’t alone. A lone male was smoking in the same alley, and he locked eyes with you once he caught your attention.  

They were an unnatural green that felt familiar however, you couldn’t place where you might’ve seen them before.  

“By all means... don’t let me keep ya from your.. uhh temper tantrum.” He blew a long puff of smoke into the night air.  

At first you were in shock, but that reaction soon turned into irritation. Just who did he think he was talking to you like that? “I am not having a tantrum thank you very much a-and... you can’t smoke here!”  

He simply chuckled while taking another drag. You crossed your arms and tapped your heels on the concrete as you waited for a response. This guy was something else.  

“Hello? Did you hear me?” You added.  

“Yup.” He popped the letter p, “Loud n’ clear. Pretty sure this area is ah... employees only. Ya wouldn’t catch me smokin’ if ya weren’t out here being a brat, hm?”  

He had a point, but you still scoffed at his choice of words. You had the idea of using your title as the boss of this event to get him fired; yet he would surely talk and by morning, Gotham City would know that you’re a Wayne. That was the last thing you wanted; however, it was worth the hassle if it got rid of him.  

For now, all you could do was shake your head at this strange man breaking your employee’s no smoking rule. You personally selected all the staff for the event and your security team performed background checks on everyone to ensure your safety.  

The gentlemen sitting before you did not jog your memory.  

His presence made you uneasy and you took a step back, “Do I know you?”  

He snorted, smoke emerging from his nostrils in comical puffs. “Uh no, but I knoooo~ooow you.” 

The blood in your veins ran cold when the stranger stood up and stepped into the light. “Didn’t your dad tell ya not to talk to strangers Miss Wayne?” He said mockingly.  

You took one look at The Joker’s grotesque scars and turned to run.  

Joker grinned and let you have a running start although you didn’t get far. Your feet got caught in your dress fabric and made his job relatively easy. The two of you tumbled to the ground, Joker landing on your back, but that quickly changed with a sharp elbow to his nose.  

You didn’t stick around to see if your hit landed, you just scrambled to your feet and tried to reach for the back door when a hand grabbing your ankle disrupted your sense of balance. One second you were upright, the next, you were on the ground seeing double vision.  

Joker didn’t think you’d put up much of a fight. His research into you was limited, but he doubted that you had any of the fighting skills your father was notorious for.  

Technically he was right. You had taken up self defense training from Jason and he reported that you sucked at it.  

Despite your lack of skills and concussion, you weren’t going down without a fight. One of your nails scratched Joker’s elongated smile causing it to bleed and suddenly, he had enough of your little games.  

You were making too much noise, and his window of opportunity to kidnap you was running out. If he didn’t move you soon, his plan would be ruined. You just had to make things difficult for him.  

“Alrighty Y/n, time for a little nap. Shhhhh... shh easy now.” Joker dodged your wild punch to his face as he dug a syringe out of his pocket.  

The sight of it made you panic and fight back harder but your scream of help was drowned out by a roar of applause from inside. The auction must’ve ended with a success. Joker pierced your skin and watched the milky white substance disappear into your system.  

It was cold seeping into your veins as you still tried to fight back.  

“Aht ahttttt don’t fight it. Let it happen.” Joker crooned into your ear; not like you could hear him. Your body felt so heavy, you lost function of your limbs so suddenly it was terrifying.  

The Joker’s obnoxious laugh sounded miles away from you. When your eyelashes fluttered closed, Joker knew victory was his.  

The environment that you woke up in was dark and cold.  

Your limbs were still groggy with whatever The Joker had injected you with and after a few test stretches, you still had motion in them. Although it would do you no good. The distinctive sound of metal on metal gave away your current predicament. 

You were chained to something.  

You tried not to panic but you were unable to see anything a few inches in front of you much less see how far the chain allowed you to move. You felt something solid underneath you and concluded that it was some sort of mattress or padding. It was a small comfort while being confined in total darkness.  

Wherever you were, The Joker was to blame, and you weren’t going to let him have this much power over you. You had to find a way out before he started his sick form of entertainment.  

Every citizen of Gotham knew Joker’s M.O. You didn’t want to be tortured to death all for a laugh.  

You waited until your eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings before exploring how much freedom you truly had.  

You felt around in the darkness until your hands bumped into something solid. It was a surface with nothing that could help you escape on it, so you moved on. Minutes felt like hours as you stumbled through the dark, searching for anything useful. Just when you thought you were painting a clear picture of the room in your head, a door opened beside you.  

The blinding light was nothing compared to the searing pain of the door hitting you square in the face or that of the trauma caused by falling to the ground.  

The room was still spinning when your loudmouth got the better of you. 

“What’s your f__king problem?!” You cried out. You feared that your nose was broken, it sure felt like it with the amount of blood you felt gushing out. The Joker didn’t seem phased by the display.  

Instead, he stepped right over you and flicked on a light, blinding you in the process. “Errr let’s see... problems. MY problem.. Social injustice? Global warming…uhhh rush hour traffic?” Joker paused for dramatic effect and slowly turned to face you. You froze, feeling his emerald eyes rake over your form hungrily.  

The unnatural hue seemed to suck you in the longer you stared. “You.” Joker purred. 

“M-Me?” How were you a problem? He abducted you not the other way round! 

You had never crossed paths with the Clown Prince of Crime until tonight. The two of you couldn’t be more worlds apart. You stayed nose deep in your humanitarian work and out of any trouble whereas The Joker was trouble personified.  

The only thing that linked you to Joker was your father, yet you doubted the clown was smart enough to put all the puzzle pieces together to uncover that.  

You prayed that this was all some sort of misunderstanding but judging how The Joker was staring, your hopes began to shatter one by one.  

You instinctively shielded your body from the known threat and in doing so, your skin brushed against unknown material. The formal dress you originally wore for the evening was gone and replaced by a thin t-shirt and baggy men’s pants. The implications were not lost on you. 

You turned to glare at the madman before you. “Who changed my clothes!?” If you were able to blush, you knew you’d be redder than a tomato.  

This man obviously had no respect for women. He simply threw his head back and laughed, “The pleasure is allllllllllll mine.”  

You failed at hiding your full body shudder and even worse, you were unable to silence yourself from talking trash. “Screw you.” You regretted saying it the moment you opened your mouth.  

The room suddenly got quiet. Joker sauntered his way over to your mattress and crouched down so he could be eye level with you. He admired the fire burning within your e/c eyes for a time. Such a strong wielded fire, it was beautiful to behold. If Joker had his way, there would only be smoking embers after he had his fun. He would make sure of it.  

The Joker always had an air of drama about him, and it took center stage as he spoke to you. “Ya wanna.. know something? You should be lucK-yyyy my boys didn’t change ya. They would’ve loved to uh.. what did ya say? Screw you.” 

His choice of words held more meaning as he tried to brush a few strands of hair out of your face. You shut down that idea by chomping at his fingers the second they were within your reach.  

You refused to sit around like some damsel in destress until dad or one of the boys came to rescue you. You would fight back even if it killed you. 

To Joker, your little stunt was comical. You could rebel all you wanted; your antics would never compare to what he had in store for you.  

He simply wagged his paint-stained fingers at you like a scolding parent and insulted you further. “Mm, feisty! I like thaT. But that’s no way to behave while you’re here. No noooo. No. You are a verry special guest, Y/n!” 

Joker walked over to the table that you found earlier. You watched as he pulled out a tripod and took the time to set up a camera in your general direction. Once it was positioned to his liking, he mashed a button—and to your horror, a red light began to blink. 

“Tada! May I present.... Y/n, my lead-ing lady in this uh.. short film of mine! The title you ask? Why it’s, How to Break Batman’s Little Girl 101!”  

Joker’s words were like a sucker punch to your gut. They bounced off the thick walls of the room and echoed back in your eardrum's times a hundred. Your worst nightmare was happening right before your eyes. Not only did someone know who you were, but dad’s long kept secret was out—and his arch-nemesis of all people, knew about it.  

You were blinking a mile a minute and Joker thought your lips flailing like a fish was oh so adorable. Kissable really but he shook that odd thought away.  

He hyped up his performance so much, you weren’t sure if he was addressing you or the camera at this point.  

“Oh come now, Y/n. Don’t act so sur-prised! I knew Bats’ secret for years now. We are friends ya know.... Mmm on second thought. Ya might wanna work on the security Batsy.. I just so happened to waltz in and steal your precious.... and might I add.... beau-ti-ful daughter away easy peasy. Did I mention she’s verrrry beautiful?”  

You snapped out of your panic by Joker’s fingers grazing your cheek. Your response was instinctive by slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”  

Joker wasted no time reacting to your outburst. His gentle touch turned cruel and struck your face hard enough to turn it sideways right into the wall.  

He quickly grabbed ahold of your jaw and yanked you back upright. You were forced to bear witness to his self-inflicted scars, all jagged and swollen up close. It was a permanent reminder just how insane this man truly was. Joker’s nails dug into your cheek and for a split second, you genuinely feared this man.  

His green eyes were almost electric staring into your soul. “You’re mine now and I’ll touch ya however I want. Got thaT?”  

Joker saw the insult queuing up in your brain and squeezed your face tighter in his grasp. You whined but still managed to part your lips to respond. “I’m not yours.” You growled.  

A brief staring contest ensued. Green verses your e/c.  

Joker admired your bravery; you questioned his sanity. He dressed the part of a gentleman with his three-piece suit and coattails (despite the outlandish colors) yet he was so far removed from the title. He was unpredictable in every sense of the word that you weren’t sure if you would survive a moment longer in his presence. 

You were confident that someone would come save you, Joker thought you were too naïve to understand the gravity of your situation. In any case, he would have ample time to extinguish the fire blazing in your eyes before someone started searching for you.  

He was so caught up crafting his mental plans, he didn’t notice the glint in your eye right before you bit his hand.  

It hardly phased him and for your efforts you received a rough shove towards the ground. Thankfully the mattress softened the blow however you still had the strength to glare at The Joker in disdain. 

“Let’s see how long that feisty streak of yours last hmm?” Joker chuckled under his breath and walked over to the door.  

The sudden change in brightness blinded you again but this time you caught a glimpse of a bulky man guarding the door before he and Joker disappeared from sight. 

Finally you were alone with your thoughts. The first thing you did was let out a shaky sigh and glance at the camera still recording you. The Joker didn’t turn it off and you concluded its sole purpose was to monitor you and collect material for the ransom cd your dad would receive. 

You choked back a sob just thinking about dad. He would be beside himself knowing you were abducted. Finding out that his greatest enemy took you would be a low blow—one you hoped he would overcome in order to rescue you. Dick and Jason would steer the detective in the right direction but with every hour that passed, you knew dad would slowly lose his mind. He knew firsthand what Joker was capable of. Your nose throbbed bitterly as a harsh reminder.  

There was nothing stopping the clown from killing you if he simply became bored.  

If only you took dad’s words to heart and abided by his strict security measures. You had snuck away from your detail for a bit of privacy. Now you regretted that dumb decision. You were in Joker’s clutches with no chance of escape, and it was all your fault.  

He chained you to a bedpost like some animal and now that there was light in the room, you could see it in its entirety.  

It was a mini prison right down to the bare necessities. The Joker had every intention of keeping you here, cut off from Gotham City, most likely below ground to disrupt the bat tracker embedded in you since childhood.  

You scratched at your wrist, praying that it miraculously still worked despite the odds. Surely your father, the world’s greatest detective, could locate his daughter with much less. 

It was the only reassurance you had.  

You were getting tired overthinking your predicament. There was nothing you could do at present, so with one last hesitant glance at the video recorder, you tried your best to get comfortable on the mattress and fall asleep. 

That became your routine. Time held no value anymore.  

Was it a few days? Weeks? Longer? How were you to know? You were confined to four concrete walls with no form of contact, save for the ever present blinking red light watching your every move.  

You were forced to use the horrendous facilities they called a bathroom, and meals (which were surprisingly great) were brought to your room like clockwork while you were asleep.  

You began to look forward to the tray that would magically appear on your table. It was the only connection to the outside world you had, and you didn’t take it for granted.  

There was always a special treat on your dinner plate and it never failed at putting a smile on your face regardless of being a prisoner. You tried to keep a grip on your sanity with these small bouts of happiness, but it was obvious what angle Joker was playing at.  

He was using isolation to mentally break you and it was working. 

You thought being locked away all alone would be easy, but the constant silence was unbearable and before long you began to fear when Joker would return.  

Not fearing him specifically, but of what you might do for a sliver of human interaction.  

That visit came unexpectedly. You woke up from a nap sensing a presence inside your room. Sadly, you had embraced having hallucinations during your lengthy stay here, but this one felt a little too real.  

Something didn’t feel right. “H-Hello?”  

The door was still closed with the lights dimmed and there wasn’t a tray of food dropped by, so you glanced near the bathroom area on pure instincts. Nothing was inside the room except that camera that you loathed so much. Its constant flashing light both annoyed and comforted you. At least you weren’t completely alone.  

You sighed to yourself and was about to fall back asleep when you felt something move behind you. Joker’s laugh blended in with your scream as you tried to scramble away.  

You didn’t get far given that Joker dragged you back towards him.  

The last thing you expected after waking up was a man lying in the same bed as you. It was a natural response to freak out, especially since it was The Joker pinning you to the mattress. “YOU SICK F__K! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?”  

You didn’t see the way Joker's eyes glazed over or the way his hands tightened around you before he grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Have I lost my… have I.. losT my mind?”   

You tried to pry his hands off you, but Joker was just too strong as he continued to repeat your question over and over. His manic laughter was deafening in your ear. “Have I lost my mind, Y/n? Or have you?”  

You looked up into pools of jade that glinted mockingly down at you. “What are you...?” 

Joker cut you off by directing your gaze to the camera in the room. “Did ya forget I’ve been watching you this entire time doll? Talking to yourself, your uh... hopeless words of affirmation? Oh Dad will come, he’ll come save me! Hang in there, Y/n! You’re so braaaaaave and strong!”’ 

Joker’s imitation of your voice was cringeworthy as he repeated your own words out loud. He mocked your defiant spirit and hopes of escape as if it was a joke. Strangely enough, Joker’s tone softened, and he sounded sincere with his next angle of attack.  

“You just don’t get iT. Daddy’s not coming Y/n. No one knows you’re missing, and nooo one cares either. It’s been a month now doll. If Daddy Bats really cared about his precious daughter, he would’ve rescued you by now don’tcha think?” 

Joker was just messing with you. This was another tactic of his to break you down. He was a master of manipulation and his way with words was just as dangerous as his work with knives. His sole existence was to harm others and yet with your fragile state of mind, a part of you believed him.  

You couldn’t believe that a month had passed with no one trying to find you. Was Joker telling the truth?  

It was too absurd to believe. “N-No....  no dad cares about me. He wouldn't.... he wouldn’t give up..” You whispered. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince here, you or The Joker.  

He must’ve seen the doubt starting to creep in for he pushed you a little further. “Are you sure, Y/n? He’s a uh, busy bat! Fighting crime always comes first, you know that better than anyyyyy one. He’s never had time for you...” Joker smiled, watching you blink back tears.  

He enjoyed every minute of tearing down your defenses one lie at a time.  

He leaned away and bit back a smile when you followed, seeking his contact. You were making this child’s play for him.  

“Bats always sent ya away when you were younger. Never letting you err.. blossom to your fullest. He hid you away because you were a failure to him. A mistake. He never cared about you! But guess whaT?”  

Joker waited until you looked up into his grassy green eyes. Were they always so expressive or was it your imagination that made them sparkle? It was the first source of human contact you had in who knows how long. You felt special to have The Joker staring at you the way he was.  

The air in the room was filled with static energy as you waited for Joker’s next words. You craved validation, acceptance, and attention at a time like this. The Joker had starved you for far too long in isolation.  

His hand raised up and softly caressed the side of your face and you missed how his eyes lingered on your lips longer than intended.  

“I care Y/n.” He chuckled seeing you pout, “I mean iT! I’ve been so ah.. cruel to ya. I should’ve treated you better. You want me to treat ya better doll?” 

Joker leaned forward and kissed both of your cheeks. The contact made you jump and blink up at him in shock. If he couldn’t hear your heart beating wildly, then he was deaf.  

You soaked up his form of human contact like a sponge. How long had you been wasting away in this room?  

Was it really a month like Joker had said? Right as Joker was leaning down to kiss you properly, you had a moment of clarity.  

Who was to blame for you being trapped in here? Why were you here in the first place? The answer was right in front of you, buttering you up with sweet lies and fake affection. Joker was playing you like a fiddle, and you were weak enough to fall for it.  

Not anymore.  

The Joker was the enemy. He was full of lies. Dad would never abandon you so why were so inclined to believe this green haired clown? No amount of isolation, no form of torture, could break you to believe such. You couldn’t give up so easily. You were a Wayne. You were born a fighter.  

Joker’s scarred lips ghosted against yours as you shoved him away. “You are nothing but a liar.”  

You enjoyed his brief moment of shock before his eyes cooled into the hard emeralds that they were. 

And just like that the act was over. One second you were in the comfort of Joker’s arms, the next you were tossed aside like trash and his true colors were revealed.  

He towered over you like a titan as you tried to back away but there was simply nowhere to go. You were at Joker’s mercy, and he spared you none. Each kick to your body made you cry out for Joker to stop but he didn’t listen, rather he laughed and kicked harder.  

You grabbed his ankle and begged him to stop but he jerked free and stomped on your wrist in retaliation. The audible crack was background noise to your earsplitting scream— yet it was all music to Joker’s ears.  

He enjoyed the pain of others and yours was icing on the cake.  

You sounded so pretty, so helpless and filled with anguish. He wanted to hear more. He was obsessed. How far could he push you until you gave under pressure? 

Two knocks on the door stole Joker’s attention and his eyes watched as another person entered the room. Joker knew who it was. Anyone else wouldn’t dare enter while he had his fun.  

Frost took one look at you sobbing on the floor before he focused his attention back on his boss. “We got trouble.”  

Joker rolled his eyes at Frost for interrupting his fun although it was probably for the best. He didn’t want to break you just yet. Slow and steady won the race and he had all he time in the world to do so.  

He might’ve went overboard today judging by how you visibly flinched when he moved in your direction, but he knew you’d bounce back defiant as ever. You had to.   

“You’ll have to uhh, excuse me Y/n. It seems.. I’m needed elsewhere. Don’t. You. Move.” He patted your head and laughed all the way out the door.  

The heavy sound of it closing did little to silence your tears.  

The pain was nothing. You were more upset with yourself for not being stronger. Joker was destroying your fighting spirit in record time and you were powerless to stop him.  

The bruises never faded, and it made sleeping even more difficult on your worn mattress.  

Sure, Joker was considerate enough to cast your broken wrist, but it was a small gesture compared to the verbal and added physical abuse he bestowed upon you daily.  

You became Joker’s personal punching bag and there was no end in sight to your suffering.  

Each time the door opened, you were forced to endure Joker’s twisted mind games or his heavy hand. It didn’t matter that you were a woman, in his eyes you deserved every ounce of pain that he inflicted. And when he finally left you bleeding and holding back tears, your own thoughts tortured you some more. 

Did father really abandon you? How was the world’s greatest detective, renowned for his state-of-the-art technology and gadgets, unable to locate his only daughter?  

The days blended together and all the hope you originally had of being rescued, diminished.  

The Joker enjoyed his daily visits with you but he could tell that it wasn’t enough. Your body was obviously battered yet your mind remained intact.  

You still possessed a thread of hope that made you defiant to the end. You spat in Joker's face whenever he was in range, and you rolled your eyes at his half-hearted jokes about killing you.  

“Then do it.” Your snide remarks often led to more beatings that did little to fulfill Joker’s goal.  

Nothing seemed to be working to ultimately break you, so he decided to try a different angle. 

You woke up to the smell of food in the air. Your stomach growled in want, but the reset of your body hurt too much to move. You debated skipping eating all together in favor of rest however that choice was made for you.  

“Sit up.” 

His voice. The root of all of your problems. You didn’t have the strength to be bothered with him today.  

Joker waited for you to move yet when you remained lying down, he became agitated. “I won’T re-peat myself doll.” 

Your voice cracked with your response. “I can’t. It hurts.” You just wanted to be left alone, to hurt in peace but Joker controlled everything here. As if you had a choice to begin with. 

“Lemme help you.” 

Just hearing the offer gave you the strength to flip over to face him. Surely he was joking. He wanted to help you?! After all he did? Screw the consequences, you had to speak your mind. 

“Help me? You want to help me? Okay then. Go away! Far… far away and leave me alone! Or even better! Let me go!  What’s the point of keeping me here? What do you want from me?!”  

During your speech you began to cry and Joker (for the first time in his life) felt guilty. Your timeless beauty was marred by cuts and bruises that he caused, and he couldn’t justify his actions for creating them.  

Somewhere along the way Joker lost focus of the mission.  

It was all a game— to get at Batman but along the way Joker saw how strong you truly were. Anything he tossed your way, you deflected it with ease. You never faltered, never lost hope. Even now as you lay weak and hungry, your eyes set him ablaze.  

You had won, he just didn’t know at what.  

Joker didn’t know what else to do with this failed experiment of his. One thing was certain, he wasn’t letting you go. There was something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on.  

Your rant fizzled off as you stared at Joker.  

There was an odd gleam in his eyes that you were wary of. He looked lost in thought and when he snapped to, you were shocked to see a genuine smile appear on his lips.  

You feared what his thoughts could lead to.  

To mask your fear, you rolled your eyes at his lack of an answer and reached for your dinner tray. Your groan of pain made Joker wince. Were you really in that much pain?  

Without thinking, he smacked your hand away and stabbed a portion of food with the provided fork. The two of you stared at each other in silence waiting for the other to make a move.  

“I can feed myself.” You grumbled.  

Joker gave you an, ‘are you sure about that’ look and tapped the fork to your lips.  

Just thinking about moving used up too much energy and your muscles begged for you to take him up on the offer. The Joker, Gotham City’s notorious criminal, wanted to feed you dinner; who were you to deny him?  

You begrudgingly opened your mouth while looking away from his smug green eyes.  

The act was so demoralizing, but you kept your cool while chewing in silence and opening your mouth for the next morsel.  

Just to be cheeky, you closed your lips around the fork and refused to let go. Joker didn’t think it was funny but he entertained your bratty behavior nonetheless. He considered stabbing your tongue—but thought against it. There was no need to be violent.  

He was trying a different angle to this whole hostage situation he created. Your defenses were down tonight and he would be a fool not to take advantage of them.  

A quick glance to his right confirmed that the video camera was still recording. Perhaps it was time to send a message to daddy dearest and make some progress.  

You were under the impression that Joker was taking pity on you with his nice guy act. He was patient, feeding you bites of food and not shoving it down your throat like he’d done in the past when you tried starving yourself.  

He was being.. (dare you say it) nice. You should’ve known it was too good to be true.  

He finished feeding you and you thought he was moving onto the slice of cake that was on the tray. You had been eyeing it since Joker uncovered it and you licked your lips thinking about the delectable treat.  

It would have to wait. There was an ominous shift in the air that completely blindsided you.  

Joker didn’t know what came over him. He didn’t have any plans when he entered your room tonight. It was supposed to be a simple food drop—nothing more, but the moment his eyes landed on you curled up on the mattress resting so beautifully, what left of his demented mind, checked out early.  

This past month and a half was filled with harsh lessons and far too many close calls. Batman and his ban of birds did everything in their power to find you and they almost succeeded once or twice. 

Thankfully Joker was smart enough to place you inside a shipping container so you could always be mobile and out of reach. You hardly noticed the frequent moves since he coordinated them during your sleeping hours. It also ensured your meals were always hot and fresh since they could just travel to wherever Joker deemed fit to your standards.  

Everything was planned down to the smallest detail, everything except developing feelings for you.  

Now that was out of Joker’s control.  

Underneath the clown façade, Joker was still a man and you were absolutely stunning with your aristocratic beauty and educated mind.  

Your fierce personality drew him in despite you being a means to an end. You were supposed to be a form of entertainment, a toy until Joker got bored and let Batman have his daughter back but over time, Joker became attached to you in an unhealthy way. 

You were Joker’s property, his special secret hidden from the world to do with as he so pleased.  

He stopped hitting you and allowed you time to heal due to some unknown form of guilt. More and more tasty desserts were included with your meals to make up for his abusive behavior, and unbeknownst to you, Joker watched you sleep every night.  

There was something soothing watching you blissfully unaware of the monster in your bed. He could slit your throat in your sleep but he didn’t. No, that would be a waste.  

Joker found it better to sleep beside you and hold you close. He knew you would freak out if you knew all the liberties that he took while you were asleep.  

From tracing your major arteries with a knife to leaving lipstick marks all over your skin—his feelings for you were disturbing and perfectly justified in his opinion.  

Joker didn’t want the traditional lovey dovey crap most couples shared because he wasn’t normal. He wanted to own, to control, to destroy you completely and then protect the broken pieces that remained. 

There was no concept of love in Joker’s mind and there never would be. Seeing you so docile as he fed you was the breaking point. He got a taste of your submissive side and craved more.  

Why couldn’t you just give in and break already? You brought this upon yourself. You forced Joker to do this. 

He blocked out the sound of your cries and wrestled your arms down to onto the mattress. His only goal was to get you naked and when you began to struggle more, he took matters into his own hands. 

Joker grabbed the army knife from his pocket and sliced your clothes off. One motion caught your skin and you howled as the sharp metal tore it open. Joker saw red bubble to the surface and dove down to lick you clean.  

He didn’t like hearing your voice filled with pain. It distracted him from getting hard and after staring you in the eye, you quickly got the message. Keep quiet or else.  

You tried not to make a sound louder than your whimpers. You didn’t want to provoke Joker’s wrath.  

“Much better. So pretty.” Joker hummed to himself when you were laid bare beneath him although he frowned seeing tears staining your cheeks. “Shhhhhh, hey hey. Look at me... Behave and it won’t hurT.”  

He watched your lip wobble as you remained quiet. Your wrists were being held down by Joker’s hand, leaving you powerless to squirm away and he loved the power scale tipping in his favor. Good. You would always be beneath him.  

He struggled a bit to unzip his fly but managed to get his cock out without letting you go. A shame you were being bratty and didn’t prepare yourself for this. He really had to do everything around here.  

Joker spat on his hand and worked it up and down his cock, groaning to himself at the feeling. His eyes roamed over his doll and admired your beauty mid stoke. You had curves in all the right places that begged to be fondled. He wanted to touch them, but if he let go of your hands, you would act out.  

He could see the fire burning in your eyes. If he gave you an inch, you’d take a mile.  

Yet it was criminal not to mark you up the way he wanted.  

Joker sighed as he lined himself up with your pussy. You panicked and tried moving away from his tip tapping your opening with heavy slaps to no avail.  

“Are ya gonna behave doll?” 

He shifted his weight and applied more pressure on your healing broken wrist when you continued to rebel. The searing pain made you bite your lip and cease struggling altogether.  

“Now. Are you gonna be a errr.. good doll for me n’ stay realllllllly still?” Joker sang.  

Your lip curled back, ready to cuss him out, instead a loud scream took escaped your lips as Joker began to force his way inside your dry entrance.  

It burned. It ached. He was tearing you apart and you shook your head in agony as it continued without end. You didn’t think about the consequences, you bucked your hips away from the unwanted invasion.  

You knew you were in trouble the moment Joker said your name in warning. 

“What. Did. I just say doll? Dumb b___h.” 

Joker let go of your wrists to hold your hips instead. Once he found purchase, he began thrusting in and out of your pussy. His pleasure was your torment. Your silent tears spurred him on and he swatted your hands away that tried to push him off.  

Nothing would stop him after he got a taste of you. He was an idiot for not taking you sooner. 

“Haha, you’re grippin’ me soooooo tight doll. Ease up for me!” Joker groaned louder to drown out your pathetic pleas. He would not slow down; you were too perfect to stop now.  

He noticed the camera in the corner and got an idea. “Are ya enjoying yourself, doll? Why don’tcha give the ah.. a-audience a good show? Go on. Tell him how you feel.”   

You forgot all about the recorder in the room! Your sharp gasp was music to his ears. You tried to turn away, but Joker would have none of that. He grabbed your jaw and forcibly turned your face towards the lens. Your tears were a paid actor for his production.  

“Ya see that Bats? ThaT, oh f__k... t-that is the face of your failure. She’s all mine and I’m gonna take ahaha.. verrry good care of her. All mine.. d__n it..” Joker choked back a moan and licked the tears from your face as he sped up his thrusts. If he kept this up, he would cum before the fun really started. Although he shouldn’t have to be the only one getting off.  

With a smug grin, he snaked a hand down to rub messy circles on your clit.  

The response was instantaneous. You threw your head back with a mewl on your tongue. He felt the result of his adventurous touch the same time you let out an unexpected moan. “Oh? Ya like that doll?” He mocked.  

He laughed at you trying to deny deny deny but your body was speaking on your behalf.  

You tightened around him and he felt the slick begin to coat his cock. He arched an eyebrow at the sudden turn of events. You really were enjoying this. He wondered... 

He stroked your clit faster and was rewarded by another sweet moan gracing his ears. His doll made the prettiest sounds under distress. He could see the confusion dancing across your features.  

“Ohhhhhh Bats! You have a naughty.. naughty girl! Enjoying my touch after begging me to stop just minutes ago? Ah.. mmm, it's okay doll! M-Moan louder. Enjoy ittt, I know I am. Mm, you feel better the uh wetter you become.” 

Joker stopped mid thrust when you clenched down unexpectedly on him. Were you trying to crush him to death?  

He wondered if you could feel him throbbing in your pussy. Your tiny fists were beating on his clothed chest but there was no point in pretending.  

You were enjoying yourself and if he was correct to assume, you were getting close. You just needed a little push and Joker had just the thing.  

“I knew you were secretly a whore. Only dirty sluts get off on being used like a toy. Hehe. It's a-always the quiet ones f__k!” Joker chuckled to himself followed by a shuddering groan. You were very close. He had to act fast.  

Without warning he bit down hard on your shoulder. You moaned out before covering your mouth with your hand. It was too late; Joker already knew what kind of woman you were. He bit harder and rejoiced as blood bubbled up to the surface to coat his lips. Finally, he was marking you up the way you deserved.  

He sped up his thrusts, laughing at the sloppy sound of wet skin on skin in the room. His cock happily slid in and out of your pussy now that you were horny.  

You were shaking your head in denial even as your legs shivered on Joker’s shoulders. He licked the fresh bite mark clean before whispering in your ear.  

“Let go Y/n. Shatter into a thousand tiny lit-tle pieces— and when you snap them back together, I'll be righT here to ruin you all over again. And again. And again. I will always break you just the way you need. The way you deserve. So go on. Do itttt. B-Break for me.... For us.”  

Joker thought you were beautiful before, seeing you admit defeat and cum was a vision from heaven.  

Your cheeks darkened in color as your lips parted like the sea to allow carnal bliss to fall from its depths. You twitched uncontrollably in Joker’s hold, and he was more than happy to pull you in close as you fell apart on his cock.  

You rode the wave of pleasure and swept Joker along with the force. He was caught off guard by your tightening cunt and came with your name a whisper on his lips.  

No drug could ever compare to the high you gave him.  

He saw new sounds and heard colors that he couldn’t name. His breath came in short pants as he came down. Words failed him, his head was still too foggy to process the world around him.  

What could one say after an orgasm that intense? He just came inside your quivering hole, and he already wanted to do it again.   

He couldn’t find the energy to even think coherently! All he could do was flop down next to you and sort out his senses in the right categories.  

His paint-stained hands wandered aimlessly and began playing with the ends of your hair, much to your horror. While Joker floated in post-coital bliss, you fell back to your harsh reality.  

You let this monster have sex with you and even worse, you enjoyed it.  

You felt dirty, cheap, a literal failure. You allowed The Joker to touch you, to make you feel good. You came from his ministrations. God, you could feel him softening inside your used pussy. Your inner thighs felt sticky, and you shuddered realizing that The Joker came inside you. The room began to spin as you spiraled into a panic attack.  

What would dad think when he found out? What if you became pregnant with this monster’s child. You felt sick to your stomach and feeling Joker playing with your hair, as if nothing was wrong, tipped you over the edge.  

“Don’t touch me!” You wailed. Your shout made Joker come to and instinctively hold you closer to his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on inside your head, but you didn’t have to be so loud. 

“Doll... I ahh uh, already touched ya.” He rubbed up and down your back despite you flinching from his touch.  

You made eye contact with the video recorder in the corner and Joker curiously followed your gaze. Oh. That would explain your sour mood. You were smart and deduced what he would do with the footage. “Listen Y/n..” 

A knock at the door interrupted Joker’s sentence. He didn’t move an inch as he granted whomever on the other side entry.  

You tried maintaining your modesty but it was a useless effort. You were bare as the day you were born in Joker’s arms and he wasn’t letting you go. 

Joker’s henchman walked in and struck a conversation with the clown, pretended as if you didn’t exist. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die you were so embarrassed.  

You didn’t notice what was going on until Joker snapped his fingers in your face. “Huh?” 

Joker rolled his eyes at your lack of awareness. He sat up straight and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I said..... take a bath while I’m gone. I uh.. took your chain off for ya.”  

He pointed at your bare ankle that was in fact free of the heavy metal. You twisted your leg, feeling the freedom granted to you.  

You wanted to thank Joker but he was already walking out the door with his henchman. And just like that, you were alone. The silence was unbearable as the full reality hit you full force.  

You didn’t fight back. Why did you give in so easily? Why did you miss the warmth of Joker body against yours? Just what was wrong with you for craving his touch?  

Screw taking a bath, you ran straight towards the toilet to empty your stomach.  

Sleep did not come to you when your mind was abuzz with doubt. 

You paced the room while biting your nails and reliving your time spent with Joker over and over. You were beyond restless thinking about your uncertain future. What would Joker do now that he got what he wanted? 

Would you be killed off and discarded like trash? Would your family be given the chance to mourn your passing? Would they even know what became of you? There were too many questions and not enough answers. One thing was for certain, you refused to sit around and wait for your fate.  

For some unknown reason Joker removed your chain. It was a sliver of hope that you planned on exploiting.  

The heavy metal door loomed in the distance. Before it served as a reminder of how trapped you were; now it was a shining beacon of hope. Either coincidental or simply a miracle, Joker also took the elusive camera with him. Nothing was stopping you from running, and nothing was holding you back.  

Joker had slashed your clothes to ribbons but the woolen blanket on the mattress was still intact for you to wrap around your body.  

It left you feeling far too exposed, but you had no other option available. Once covered, you padded over to the door and turned the handle to freedom. 

The hallway was dark and ominous before you.  

You weren’t sure if you wanted to venture into the unknown. You looked at the barren cell you were forced to inhabit and back into the dark void, weighing the odds.  

You took the first step, then another, and another until you were walking with haste—desperately searching for an exit.  

Your heart was beating loudly in your ears as you stumbled across a door with light poking out underneath the frame. It was the only lead you had so far towards an exit. You slowly pushed it open and regretted it instantly.  

The room full of men all stopped their various conversations to stare you caught like a deer in headlights in the doorway. You quite literally walked into a den of wolves.  

“Well well. Look what we have here!” One guy catcalled.  

They all leered at your body poorly wrapped up in a blanket. It was obvious your purpose here at their hideout. Free entertainment.  

The door slammed shut behind you, trapping you again, only this time in far more hostile conditions. You berated yourself for leaving the safety of your cell if this was the cost. You could barely defend yourself against Joker. There were too many men here to even consider escaping.  

You backtracked right into a broad chest and the male laughed at you already cowering in fear.  

He roughly pulled your hair while another pair of hands ripped your blanket away to knead your breasts. Whistles and laughter broke out in the room at the sight. “The Boss been keepin’ this from us!? Look! She’s freshly used too!”  

You screamed as fingers stabbed their way into your cunt and explored inside. Their hands weren't like Jokers. There was no pleasure to be gained here and unlike before, your body did not warm up to the stimuli.  

You were in pain as they groped and fondled your body and despite Joker being the origin to all your problems, you cried out his name to save you. 

Someone yanked your hair again before shattering all your hopes with a handful of words. “Ya think the boss is gonna help you? You are nuthin’ to him! Just a warm hole for him to use. And now it's our turn.” 

You closed your eyes to block out the pain. The last of your fighting spirit faded away as a lone tear rolled down your cheek. 

Frost and Joker were waking back towards your room when they heard the loud commotion coming from the common room.  

It was well in the night and nothing of note should’ve excited the men to be so rowdy. Most of them should’ve been on patrols in the first place.  

Frost merely shrugged his shoulders and followed his Boss.  

Curiosity killed the cat, but Joker was not so simple minded. He knew something was wrong. He wasn't religious by any means, but he prayed that this didn’t involve you.  

He barged into the common room ready to scold his men when his worst fears came to light.  

Joker didn’t think, he simply acted until nothing else stood in his way to get to you. Frost could handle the aftermath of his rage—you were the only constant in Joker’s mind the second he opened the door and saw you in distress.  

He left you just a few hours prior, safe and accounted for in your room. He left to prepare better accommodations to reflect your newfound status in his life. Joker took great care of his possessions, and you deserved better than being tucked away in some dingy shipping container. You didn’t belong on the floor like a cheap whore. No, you were worthy to be displayed, dressed up like the doll Joker wanted you to be. 

 Never did he imagine he would return to this. 

He fought his way to your side and fell to his knees by your side. His green eyes were wide with an unknown emotion as they took in your battered form.  

He didn’t want to touch and accidentally hurt you any further yet something about the thousand-yard stare in your eyes told him you were no longer here to feel anything at all. Joker knew how ruthless his men were, but this was barbaric.  

He didn’t regret killing them after what they done. His only remorse was not making them suffer more before death.  

Joker gathered you up in his arms and tried shaking you back into focus. “Y/n? Y/n, c'mon doll! Look at me.. s-say something!?” He pleaded.  

You mumbled something inaudible and curled up into a ball.  

Rage. Guilt and surprisingly shame. Joker’s mind was wild with this flood of new emotions.  

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a single cell of compassion in his body, yet the sight of his newest toy utterly broken (and not of his own doing) had him feeling remorseful.  

“I... I don’T.. I...” Joker gathered his thoughts with a deep inhale.  

Frost watched the intimate scene while kicking over a body. It was a bloody mess in here; however, that had to wait.  

Frost could tell his Boss needed some assistance. “I’ll run a bath.” Frost said offhandedly.  

It would point Joker in the right direction at least rather than rocking you back and forth on the floor to no avail. The comment snapped Joker out of his musing.  

Emerald eyes roamed over your sleeping form. “Bath. Y-Yeah uh she needs a uh.. bath.” 

He nodded to himself and slowly rose to his feet to carry you out of the common room. He passed up your old room in favor of his own that had more privacy. Not like it would matter. You had yet to speak.  

This was not the outcome Joker had planned. Even after he washed you clean and tucked you into bed— he sat by your side contemplating his next move.  

You were no longer the shiny doll he wanted on his shelf. His own men had ruined you. They took away your feisty demeanor and all conscience thought from you that made this game fun.  

Joker tried to get you to speak, to react to anything, but you remained stagnant, blinking owlishly at the wall until sleep finally took you.  Nothing of the defiant Y/n that Joker had grown to like remained.  

You left him with no other alternative. He got what he wanted, and it was time to move on.  

In three more days, it would mark your two-month long disappearance. Bruce would be a liar if he said he didn’t count the days if not the minutes that you were gone.  

He blamed himself for your capture and the boys tried their hardest to steer him in the right direction and not spiral into depression. Bruce loved all his children, but you were his by blood. You held a special place in Bruce’s heart and as such, he spent every waking second trying to find you. 

No expenses were spared, and any lead (no matter how small) were investigated. Joker was smart, but Bruce was smarter. He would find you.  

Dick and Tim investigated a possible lead and discovered where you were originally being held. You still had a sweet tooth and your favorite bakery recognized your custom order being placed and tipped off Wayne Enterprises about the person who picked it up. 

Unfortunately, The Joker moved you before Batman could arrive at the location but now they knew you were still alive. It strengthened their hopes in finding you safe and sound.  

Numerous rescue attempts were thwarted in the following weeks, but they never gave up. There would be another lead, they would have another chance to save you.  

All hope was not lost. 

Their patience was rewarded the day the Batcomputer picked up a signal on your tracker. It was finally online for the first time in months. Everyone scrambled to assemble at the pinned location. Bruce was ready for a fight and mentally prepared himself to do anything necessary to get you back.  

None of the boys were prepared to arrive at the back of your office building. It seemed to be a mistake, it had to be. Was Joker sending them on a wild goose chase? Bruce scanned the area but there was only one faint heat signature detected. His nerves were on edge, already assuming the worst.  

Bruce’s heart stopped beating when he saw a body lying in the delivery drop-off/ loading area. He didn’t wait for the others to secure the area. His father instincts were in overdrive as he rushed to your side, calling out your name.  

You were unresponsive with only a tattered blanket covering your shivering form. That’s when Bruce saw the bruises painting your body and the cast still present on your wrist. He didn’t want to believe that this battered woman was his spit-fire daughter.  

You were a shell of your former self when Bruce finally roused you awake. The fire that once blazed intently within your e/c eyes was gone and it was evident what The Joker did to you.  

“Bruce, look.” Dick said as he picked up something near your feet.  

Scattered around your body was a deck of playing cards. On the joker card a note was written in red.  

You can have her back Bats; I don’t like broken dolls. 

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

I. “the club within the club”

parts: next

plot: when you find yourself needing a topic for a journalism final, you seek out an interview from Gotham’s elusive vigilante: Batman. this proves even more difficult than it already sounds, and tensions rise when you discover an intimate secret—just as Bruce Wayne realizes his own.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+ MATURE! NSFW! canon-typical violence, slow burn, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, forced proximity, eventual smut, mutual pining, POV alternating, Bruce Wayne needs a hug, mental health issues (psychosis, suicidality), substance use, blackmail (or is it?), serious health issues, grief, brief mention of sa, gaslighting, mild gore

words: 2.1k

a/n: this is my first fic i’ve posted to tumblr and ao3, very excited to see how people like it ✨ same user on ao3 :) comments and reblogs are so appreciated! 💖

"I haven’t turned in the assignment yet, I'm so sorry," You fumbled with your book and it slipped forward on the desk. Your professor wasn't too happy with you; already a week late, this assignment was creating a piece of journalism about happenings around the city—the city was used loosely, because it was school policy not to require students be in the field for assignments. You never wanted to linger on what might have caused that rule to be enforced.

Dr. Vry was usually the picture of impatience, though she had a soft spot for you—she described you as a ‘journalistic prodigy’. You couldn’t see it, and it didn't help that you couldn't write your final piece when graduation was so near. While you’d done well in the intro courses, now that the material was more complex… you were struggling. She would say it was all in your head, and the only thing holding you back was lack of confidence in your burgeoning journalism skills, but you weren’t so sure. You had come from a sociology background but had interest in learning journalism with your last few credits, unaware how much grief this would cause you.

"Y/N, you're overthinking it.” She gently shook her head, her salt and pepper hair unmoving in the slick bun. “I'll extend it until the end of next week without point reduction. But after that it's out of my hands!" With that you thanked her, hurrying out of the class with your book tightly squeezed to your chest. Thank god, you thought. I can't fail out of a class in my last term.

That evening you holed up in your apartment per usual. You absentmindedly texted your one friend here, Margaret, but knew she was out clubbing. You’d met in a sociology course last year when you transferred. She had been the only one kind enough to show you around the city, the social butterfly she was; holding your hand as she dragged you from bar to bar, club to club. This led to a cat and mouse dynamic between you both: her always hopping to the next party albeit the occasional pit stop in your apartment and you, the reclusive homebody. You hadn’t always been so subdued, but you hadn’t always lived in the crime capital of the US.

You longed for more companionship, but focused on how you'd be leaving Gotham after graduation. The sting of loneliness here was too great, and it was no use stringing more people along. Mar had snuck her way into a crack in the first few months of your arrival. Back when you thought you might find something here. Back before you were proven wrong, and you’d given up on this godforsaken city.

Mar didn’t usually respond but tonight, she did.

Y/N, get your ass to the club! I miss you.

You chuckled a little to yourself at the idea of getting all ready to be sweaty in a room full of strangers. No thanks, have fun!

Within a second she had disliked your message and sent another: You'll find more inspo here than in your studio. I'm sending a taxi, be ready in 10

You groaned and threw the phone down. Ugh. You were tired from a long day of classes, and didn't want to pay to be humped by random clubgoers. Men in Gotham were nasty, taking every opportunity to try and get something from a woman. Plastered all across downtown were blistered posters with a faded number to report drink tampering. You should have expected as much with the city’s reputation, but coming from a small town you were naive. You picked up your phone and her text stared back at you. The day’s exhaustion had worn on your resolve, and the longer you looked at her text, the closer you were to giving in. More inspiration... she might be right. You looked around at your empty walls and the waning light outside, the sun rapidly giving way to a dark, rainy abyss.

Fine, only for an hour.

You reluctantly walked over to your closet to pick an outfit. This was gonna be a long night.

You found yourself standing out under your apartment patio, shivering in your dress. You chose something subtle: mini, dark, with some heels to match, though you admittedly didn’t have many options. You’d hurried and only put on lashes, lipgloss, and brow gel, because you thought your driver would be on time. Staring out at the flashing headlights threatened a migraine, so you whipped out your phone and went onto Scypher, a Gotham-area social media. You didn't bother going on very often, only on the rare occasion Mar dragged you out into the city. There was a handy 'Crime' tab, which had up-to-the-minute updates. It seemed pretty empty, only some car vandalisms the past hour. Hmm. You felt uneasy, the environment unusually calm for a Friday evening. Maybe it's a good thing. Wouldn't want to go out during a crime surge. You looked up as you heard a tire tempt the curb. Your driver called out your name, and you slunk into the backseat.

The drive was quick, with clubs practically on every corner. Mar hadn't told you which one, so you weren't prepared when the car pulled up to one of the most elite clubs in the city. Your face went pale, and your voice cracked as you failed making excuses to the driver. "I'm so sorry, my friend must have given you the wrong directions—"

"No, it's correct." He was stern, and when you started taking out cash to pay, he waved a dismissive hand toward you. "Your friend already paid, Miss." Flustered, and frankly confused he hadn’t sneakily accepted double payment, you thanked him and stepped out. The line wasn't too long, so you got behind a few people who were laughing hysterically. You noticed some green tinfoil out of their pocket: Drops. You forgot all the biggest dealers hung around here every night. What was Mar thinking bringing you here?

The line moved fast so you didn't have time to find an excuse to leave. You held out your ID to the burly, tall bouncer who gave you a once-over and a smirk. You stifled a groan, hating being looked at like a meal. Living in Gotham meant always feeling eyes on the back of your neck. The bouncer grinned and handed back your card, holding out another hand for the club fee. Shit. You fumbled in your bag and realized you didn't know the amount. Sheepishly, you looked over from your bag and scanned the wall behind him as quickly as possible. $50. Jesus. You managed to find three twenties crumpled at the bottom of your bag, and begrudgingly handed them over. He smiled and opened the door for you. "No change."

Well, guess I'm eating ramen this week.

Your ears began ringing the second you entered the booming club. People were packed in like sardines, and before you could even muster a thought you were grabbed fast from behind. You suppressed a scream.

"Y/N!!!" Mar wrapped you in a hug and you grabbed her to steady yourself. "Shit, Mar,"

"You look SO good! Fuck yeah!" She smiled and smacked your butt as she took your hand and led you towards the stairs. You hadn’t gotten much of a look, but her eyes looked bleary, red. "I met some guys that got us a lounge!" She was giggling but you pulled back, wincing. You'd already been sufficiently creeped on by the bouncer.

You rolled your eyes. "I thought this was a girl's night,"

She shook her head, grinning. "C'mon Y/N, get loose!" As she turned back to step up the stairs, a circle of green tinfoil fell from her pocket. You yanked your hand back, frustrated. No fuckin’ wonder. She was wasted. "MAR." You bent down to pick up the litter just as a man came up behind you, grinding against your ass. A bit of his drink spilled on your side, and you spun around to shove him back. Mar stepped up, always a willing wingman. "Hey, don't fuck with a woman like that, bitch!"

BAM BAM BAM BAM. Popping noises that sounded like gunshots rang out from the far corner of the bar. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You grabbed for the railing to head for the exit when people running from downstairs rammed into you. After a few seconds desperately straining your vision to look for Mar, you covered your head with your arms while you ducked. The gunshots inched closer and closer, egging on your heart rate, curdling your thoughts sour. I shouldn't have come. I don't want to die. I shouldn't be here. What the fuck am I doing here? I shouldn't have come. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I'm going to fucking die.

You heard a rapid increase in gunfire and then a total ceasing. You wanted to look up, but it was too terrifying. Sweat beaded on your entire body as it became electrified with adrenaline—you had known how unsafe Gotham was, you just hadn't seen yourself in the crossfire… until now. You squeezed your eyes shut, pushing yourself hard against the side of the stair to try and make your body as small as possible. You wondered if everyone else had been killed, and they were looking for any survivors… The rough concrete texture burrowed itself into your arm as you jammed it even harder, forcing yourself to be compact. I could be dead with just one bullet.

Before more morbid thoughts could form, you yelped as you felt your body being lifted and slung over someone's shoulder. Something was hard and slick against your stomach, and you opened your eyes manically to see the world whizzing around you. The arm that held you was strong, so strong you couldn't slip out if you tried. You ducked your head as the person ran you both toward the back exit with total ease. Panic started to set in. It's so dark. Who is this? Is he gonna have his way with me?

As soon as you were brought an alley down, fully away from the chaos, you began fighting against the stranger. The streets were so dark you still could hardly see, but it felt like the person was armored. You’d heard some small grunts from them on the short sprint here, or maybe you’d imagined them? Regardless, you couldn’t place the voice while your ears were still bright with tinnitus. You shouted, trying with all your might to shove them off of you, to no avail. "Let me GO!"

"Stop fighting." A low, gravelly voice spoke right next to your ear. You continued struggling to the point you felt a bruise forming on your bottom ribs. It was as if the entire world had zoomed in, and nothing mattered more than escaping. You drew a quick breath, tensing your body to fight. This motherfucker isn't gonna let me go, is he?

Without warning he relinquished his grasp and you slid off the man, landing squarely in a puddle. You looked up and through the darkness saw a masked man clad in deepest black... the Batman.

"Thanks, uh," You immediately broke eye contact, feeling awkward. The tornado of panic in your chest relaxed ever so slightly. You felt bad for fighting so hard against him, but you hadn’t known any better. Before you could fully realize the gravity of what had just happened, how Vengeance himself was standing before you, he noticed something glint behind your ear.

"Turn around." The voice was low and gravelly still, and you spun around instantaneously. You'd heard good things about the Batman in your year and a half here. A few of your classmates had direct experience with him, having been saved on one occasion or another. "He never stuck around, he was always gone as quickly as he came." It seemed almost instinctual to trust him. And, his voice brooked no argument.

Suddenly the back of your head lit up in flaming pain.

"You need stitches." He stepped back and through the deadened night you saw a screen light up on his arm. "Victim with head wound on Feller and Kelley." You heard a faint 'Roger' before the screen went black. Fear shot through you the same time as relief. You were safe, but you had to get a needle snaked through your scalp. The thought made you physically ill.

To your surprise, he was already halfway down the alleyway when you looked back; just as he turned out of view, police lights illuminated the alleyway. Holy fuck, you'd just met the Batman.

And you hadn’t gotten a good look at him.

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Like Real People Do: Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of "Like Real People Do"

After a slight mishap in the admissions office, you find yourself in the same History class as Eddie, pushing your friendship forwards (thanks to the help of Dustin Henderson).

Read Chapter 1 here

Pairing: Eddie x AFAB reader (named "Brooke" because I hate using Y/N, but will also be using "you" to make it reader-centric!)

Warnings: Swearing, dual pov. This entire series is 18+ MINORS DNI!

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I'm so happy so many people are liking this one...I love writing about Eddie *kicking my feet*. I've also noted that some people are wanting a tag list for this one, so if you want to be added, let me know!

The heat inside the class room was stifling – one last heat spike seemed to be in full effect in Hawkins, and the lack of air conditioning inside Hawkins High really put a damper on any chance of comfortability. Eddie fanned himself with his hand, rolling his eyes at the sweat he felt pooling slightly at his collar.

Mr. Binkins, the history teacher, was droning on an on about World War I, much to the dissatisfaction of what seemed like the whole class. Eddie’s eyes wandered to outside the window, Mr. Binkins’ voice slowly morphing into the Charlie Brown adults – womp womp WOMP wOmP womp. This was his second time taking this particular class, and even though he got a D+ the last time, he had still retained the information somewhat.

In other words, he was really, really bored.

Eddie resisted the urge to start tapping a drum beat to the latest Metallica song he heard on the radio, his pencil resting between his fingers, ready for him to say “when”. No…he wouldn’t be that annoying in first period – besides, Mr. Binkins would probably tell him to stop within 10 seconds of him starting, and where the hell was the fun in that?

His mind wandered, running down his usual daydream subjects: music, his DnD campaign, the newest issue of Playboy Wayne was hiding under his bed that he thought Eddie had no idea about…

You.

He sat straighter in his seat. You’d been in classes for a few days now, but Eddie had only seen you in the hallway a couple of times. You’d pass by and offer a polite smile, or even a friendly wave, and he would return the favor. He noticed you hadn’t seemed to be initiated into any cliques yet, and that you were equally friendly to everyone you came across whenever he saw you. At lunch, you were either sitting by yourself, or not there at all. Eddie hadn’t gotten the courage to ask you to sit with him and the Hellfire Club just yet.

Suddenly, the door to the classroom opened and in you walked, holding your books in front of you. Eddie’s heart lurched and he furrowed his brows.

Had he…conjured you? Like straight up wizard-ed you into the classroom?

“Can I help you?” Mr. Binkins asked, all heads turning to you. You offered him a smile – your trademark smile – and handed him a pink slip from the office.

“I was apparently put in the wrong history class for the past few days. The office told me I should’ve been in this one.” You scanned the class quickly, and when your eyes passed by Eddie’s, you deepened your smile, causing Eddie to blush.

Jesus, dude. Get a grip! You thought, slouching in your chair again to try and regain any sense of cool you had left in your body.

“Huh. Okay, Miss…Henway. Welcome! Tell the class a little about yourself.” He gestured to the rest of class and you turned.

“Okay. Um…hi,” You offered a little wave, “I’m Brooke. I moved here from Ohio at the end of June…um…” You made a face, pursing your lips together to try and think of something, “I’m a junior? And I work at the library. And I have a dog! Her name is Molly. Um…I think that’s it?”

“Very good. Have a seat anywhere that’s empty. Quite exciting…not only that you’re a new student, but that you’re in a senior class! Very good.” Mr. Binkins clapped his hands together, “Now, as soon as Miss Henway takes her seat, we can continue you.”

Eddie watched you scan the room again, and once you noticed the empty desk next to him, you made your way over, sitting in the seat and plopping your books on the desk. You turned to him and smiled.

“Hi again.”

“Hey,” He said, returning the smile. Lowering his voice down to a whisper, he spoke again, “So you’re in this class now? Cool.”

You nodded, “Yep. I guess the office messed up. Based on my transcripts I should be in this class. Do you know what page we’re on?” You asked, point to the textbook. Eddie shrugged.

“No idea?”

You raised your hand, “Sorry, Mr. …”

“Binkins.” The teacher said, turning around from the blackboard.

“Right. Mr. Binkins, what page are we on?”

“33.”

“Great, thanks.” You started flipping through the book and snorted, your eyes darting over to Eddie. You whispered, “I don’t mean to sound rude but…Mr. Binkins sounds like he should be related to Bilbo Baggins with a name like that.”

Eddie chuckled and his heart flipped. “Fan of ‘The Hobbit’?”

“I read a lot.” You shrugged and gave him one last smile before turning your attention back to the lesson.

Eddie leaned back in his chair, his mind starting to swirl. So, he had met a cute – beautiful, really – girl, who was also really nice, and now in one of his classes. And on top of that, she seemed to share some similar interests? He blew out some air, trying to slow down the rapid pace of his heart.

He had a feeling he was going to be in a lot of trouble.

Lunch period came quickly – thank god – and once you had grabbed your tray from the cafeteria lady, you turned to face the lunchroom. You had spent your lunch periods either sitting by yourself at the end of a table, in the library, or taken in by various random students like an orphaned colonial child. Which, really, you didn’t mind – you didn’t mind being by yourself all that much, especially when you remembered to bring something to read, or had some homework to catch up on.

You started to make your way to your favorite empty table when you heard a voice shouting behind you. “Hey! Hey!” Turning, you saw Dustin, waving his arms in the air with enthusiasm. Eddie and Mike were sitting next to him, hanging their heads in embarrassment. The other few at the table were snickering, smiling at you. Dustin waved you over and motioned to sit.

You sat down across from Eddie, sliding your bookbag underneath the table. “Hi, everyone.” You greeted.

“Hi! I’m so happy I noticed you walking to your usual empty table – you should sit with us instead from now on!” Dustin said, sitting back in his seat and smiling, “If you want!”

“Oh, thanks!” You said, “Yeah, maybe I will, if you don’t mind.” You eyed Eddie and he immediately smiled back at you, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, sure, of course.” He said.

“Great, then it’s settled! You can be apart of the lunch crew!” Dustin smiled proudly and ripped into his sandwich, chewing with his mouth open slightly, “How have your first few days been?”

You shrugged, pushing the salad you had gotten around with your fork, “Oh, it’s fine. I like school so it’s not too bad, but…” You trailed off, crossing your feet at the ankle, “Just an adjustment, is all.”

“Have you made any friends?”

“Dude!” Mike hissed, looking at Dustin, “You can’t just like, ask a new kid if they’ve made any friends yet. That’s rude.”

“No, it’s okay!” You offered, trying to lighten the mood, “I have…kinda? No one that I’ve hung out with outside of school yet…I have a bunch of classes with Nancy? Wheeler? So we’ve been chatting. Do you know her?”

Mike rolled his eyes and Dustin barked out a laugh, “Yeah, we know her. That’s Mike’s sister!”

“Oh! Oh, okay. Cool! She’s really nice.”

“Yeah…” Mike grumbled, in only the way younger brothers could. You shoved some salad in your mouth to shut yourself up, nodding and hoping someone else would take over the conversation.

“You could hang out with us, if you wanted!” Dustin offered, leaning in, “Do you play Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Dustin…” Eddie quietly groaned, “Please stop interrogating her. She’s only been able to take like, one bite of her food because you won’t stop asking her about her life story.”

“I…don’t, sorry,” You said, “Is that the game with like…dwarves and stuff?”

“Uh-huh! It’s really cool…if I do say myself.” Dustin reminded you of an over-enthusiastic puppy, which was really endearing. You noticed that Eddie, though seemingly annoyed with him, couldn’t help but have an affectionate air towards him. “I mean, we do other stuff too…not just DnD. We do movie nights, and go to the mall, and stuff.”

“I like the mall.” You offered politely, “I like to do a lot of stuff. And I like movie nights, too.”

“Next time we have one, we’ll invite you! Right, Eddie?”

Suddenly, Dustin shot up in his seat and yelped in pain, reaching down to his foot. Everyone at the table stopped to stare at him, including yourself.

“Jesus, that hurt, Eddie! Why did you kick me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie said, in monotone. His eyes flickered to yours and back to Dustin, “I say we let her decide if she wants to hang out with us. Stop peer pressuring the poor lady to go to a movie night with us for Christ’s sake.”

Your heart sank a little – even though Eddie was friendly enough, it didn’t really seem like he wanted you to hang out with his group. Which was fine, since you didn’t know each other very well, but it still would’ve been nice if he had been a little more welcoming. Especially, considering you thought he was really handsome…in a rockstar, grungy kind of way.

“Um…well…I work weekends sometimes for the library so…I don’t really know my schedule. So who knows when I can even go to a movie night…” Pushing your food with your fork again, you tried your best to sound nonchalant, and not like a movie night would be the most fun you’ve had in a while.

Dustin frowned a little and took another bite of his sandwich, “Yeah, yeah. Okay…well…let us know…” He focused on his food and trailed off. You quickly looked up to Eddie, who was looking at you, but then looked away at his own food.

The rest of lunch was kind of awkward, with everyone making polite conversation about their “newest campaign” (whatever that was), and peppering questions in for you about your previous life in Ohio. Soon, the bell rang, and you made your way to the garbage can, throwing away the leftovers and sliding the tray on the collectable surface on top.

“Hey…” Eddie slid next to you, falling in line while you started to walk to your next class, “I’m sorry about Dustin. We don’t get a lot of…um, excitement? In Hawkins, so a new girl is quite a big deal for him, I guess,” He offered a smile, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

“Oh, it’s okay. It’s kind of sweet, actually. I like him…he seems nice.”

“Yeah…he is. He’s really nice.”

Your heart felt like it was being squeezed with the obvious tenderness Eddie had for Dustin. You both walked in silence for a second before he spoke again.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that the next time we do have a movie night, you are more than welcome to come. In fact, we’d love to have you. If you want, of course.” He said, avoiding eye contact. You brightened a bit.

“Yeah? Okay, then. I’d like that.”

“I’ll let you know, then. I do have to warn you, though – we usually watch strictly horror flicks.”

“Oh, no!” You squealed, a laugh rising within you, “I love horror movies but I get scared so easily…just make sure I have something to hold on to so when I jump in fear, I don’t fall off the couch!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, your mind immediately flashed an image of you in Eddie’s arms, nuzzling into his neck to hide from the movie playing on the television. Heat creeped into your neck, no doubt causing you to blush.

Eddie awkwardly cleared his throat, looking away, “Yeah, I’ll make sure to have a blanket or something…a super special blanket made to protect you from the big bad scary man on T.V.” He ended the sentence in a goofy voice, wiggling his fingers for affect. You scrunched your nose and giggled, both of you walking up to the entrance to your classroom.

Suddenly, the bell rang, giving you one minute to get to class. “Well…thanks for lunch today. And for the movie invite. I’ll see you around?” You said, smiling. Eddie nodded, rocking on his heels.

“Yeah, see you around.”

You turned to head into class and for some reason, looked back at Eddie. He was inching his way away from the door of your classroom, but made sure you were fully in your seat before walking away. Smiling to yourself, you sat down.

You were really starting to like Hawkins.

Saturday night, you found yourself in front of Eddie’s trailer, smoothing your shirt and taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. Your first time hanging out with someone from Hawkins – hanging out with anyone in months, really – and you were a bit nervous. Never mind the fact that you were seeing Eddie.

No…those nervous butterflies definitely didn’t have anything to do with that.

The trailer was on the smaller side, so you heard multiple voices right away. It seemed like you were one of the last ones to arrive, even though you were right on time. Suddenly, the door opened, and Eddie’s smiling face greeted you.

“You made it!” He said, ushering you inside. “Did you find my place okay?”

“Yeah, it was easy! You’re close to my house.” You said, walking into the trailer. Eddie shut the door behind you.

The trailer was homey – full of knick-knacks and memorabilia. Though the amount of stuff was overwhelming (in a good way), it was meticulously clean. You immediately felt at ease – almost at home.

The rest of Hellfire looked up at you in surprise. Eventually, Dustin smiled and stood up.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming!” He said, almost too excitedly. Immediately behind him, Mike rolled his eyes and Gareth, Jeff, and Dougie chuckled.

“Must have forgotten to mention it,” Eddie murmured quickly, guiding you to the couch, “Okay, who’s ready for the movie?!” He moved on quickly, shutting down any conversation Dustin was about to start. Dustin shot him a curious look and shrugged, heading to the kitchen.

“I’ll start to popcorn!” He called, opening the microwave.

You sat on the couch and Eddie immediately handed you a crocheted blanket. You looked at him, confused.

“The blanket…you know…to protect you from the big bad man on T.V…” He answered sheepishly, turning a light shade of scarlet. Your heart flipped at the recognition from the conversation you had a few days ago. Taking the blanket, you unfolded it and smiled.

“Oh, Eddie. Thanks. That’s so sweet.”

Eddie shrugged and sat down on the other side of the couch, leaving at least two people’s worth of space between you, “Yeah well, I couldn’t have you scared shitless your first time in my place.” He tried to wave it off like it was no big deal.

“So I’m assuming we’re watching a scary movie?”

“Not one, not two, but THREE scary movies!” Dougie said, holding up three fingers, “If you can handle it, that is.”

“Oh, she’ll be able to handle it,” Dustin said, coming back with a big bowl of popcorn. He sat next to you, offering the bowl, “Right, Brooke?”

You nodded, taking some popcorn. “I hope so.” You looked towards Eddie, only to find that he was already staring at you. When you made eye contact, he immediately looked away, fiddling with the remote in his hand. Your heart did a cartwheel, and you stifled a blush rising on your neck.

You certainly hoped so.  

---

Thank you all so much for reading! As always, comments, reblogs, and likes mean more than you know!

Taglist: @cosmicdanielle @sapphire4082

[allovesthings]

You know how in Robin Year One, after the Two Face incident and being taken Robin away from him, Dick headed out in the streets to crime bust on his terms which caught the attention of an underground school for training assassins?

Well what if instead of that school….it was the Court of Owls and the man who instead was approaches Dick to offer him enhanced training to react justice on Two Face…was William Cobb, not in Talon suit?

Hi 💜

So I went and reread the last two issues of Robin Year one and while out-of-universe, the court of Owl didn't exist at that time, in-universe, both Dick and Bruce got so lucky nothing like that happened.

Would Dick have gone with him if Cobb tried to gain his trust ? Because the impression I got was that he followed Strike and the revenge school of assassins because he was suspicious and other kids were involved, One guy trying to get him to come with him might have done the opposite and made him run in the other direction.

1) if he does and manage to escape, then Dick might be in a situation where he is on the run from the Court, completely sad because Bruce fired him and not sure if he should go back here with Two-face out and about also at the same time. That's a lot for a 10 to 12 years old. In that scenario, I think maybe Dick goes home to Bruce sooner because he realize he is way over his head sooner.

What's interesting about that is that with the kidnapping attempt, the Court of Owl is on Bruce's radar (again) way way way sooner than usual and Dick has a bigger target on his back now that they know about the Court of Owl.

2) The second scenario is Dick decides to go because he is suspicious like Strike and accidentally on purpose infiltrates the Court which is so fun too considering we know Brainwashing would be coming for him so the question becomes can he stay on that idea of infiltration through that ? At 10 to 12 ? That sounds like such a fun concept (although a bit horrifying considering he is 10 to 13). Can he find a way to contact Bruce and get that information out ? I have a feeling if he did that, Bruce might have a heart-attack and just decide to rescue him regardless of Dick's choice to infiltrate ?

3) The third scenario, which is it's a kidnapping attempt and it's successful, the question becomes: can Dick break free (either by escaping and/or break free of the brainwashing) ? For me yes, is a funner answer but what's interesting is when ? Does he escape the Labyrinth a la Bruce and run back to Wayne manor after being tortured? Does he break free from the Talons after he is turned ?

The second question of the scenario is what is Bruce doing ?

I think a lot of this would depends on Bruce a lot ? In Robin Year one, we don't have Bruce's pov but from Alfred's point of view, Bruce is not looking for Dick when he runs off... Which, it feels a little bit out of character for Bruce I cannot for the life of me be normal about Dick Grayson Wayne.

In my opinion, Bruce was probably investigating Two-Face so intensely because he thought that would lead him to Dick (in my own little headcanon).

So in that scenario we have Bruce getting Two-face and realizing he won't find Dick that way and I'm guessing investigating more which might put him on the Court of Owl's track so now we have a race against time on whether Bruce can find Dick before the Court does its thing with the CoO one step ahead. That's so interesting too ? It would be a bit of a thriller honestly, that would be so fun.

4) the fourth scenario which is Bruce wasn't actually looking for Dick at all, we might get to see Talon!Dick goes after Bruce later on (if I was a secret society who had a talon that was knowledgeable on Batman and with who batman has an emotional attachment, I would definitely send him after Batman) and him going after Bruce and seeing what Batman does as a superhero might be the trigger to debrainwash him.

I had so much fun with that ask, I'm so sorry for writing a bit of a novel !! But this AU is so good !!

Thank you so much 💜

[cookeybg]

Autumn's Loss of Petals - Chapter 4

Title: Autumn's Loss of Petals

Various POVs : Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson

Tags: Angst, Loss of love, amnesia, brotherly love, familial love, will add more if relevant

Obviously, I do not own any of the rights to any of the DC comics, animated cartoons or movies and I am not getting paid to write this. This is purely for my enjoyment :)

Note: I will be experimenting with different POV's for this fic, but they will all be Damian-centric.

Word Count: 1,442

Table of Contents

Chapter 4 - Dick

The front door slammed open causing both Jason and Damian to jump from their seats at the kitchen island, their puzzle pieces scattering to the ground. “Guess who?” Dick stood at the doorway a large smile on his face, he was wearing an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, swim trunks, a round pool floaty at his waist, and he was holding three duffel bags along with water guns under his arms, “Uncle Damian! Uncle Jason!” Mari floated over her dad and flew forward to wrap both her uncles in a crushing hug. “Remember, Mari we must be gentle, Damian is still recovering.” Kori copied Mari, floating over Dick to reach them, her hug was much more gentle. Dick tripped on the doorway, dropping the items he was holding, the water guns slid towards the group in the kitchen. Kori noticed the disaster and went over to help her husband. “We are going to have so much fun!” Mari yelled her hands clutched under her chin, “We’re in California!” “Mari, we are here to help your uncle recover.” Dick’s admonishment fell flat with the deflated pool floaty limply hanging off his hips. “Yeah!” Mari squealed, “We brought the fun with us!” She gave Damian a peck on the cheek and rushed off to explore the house, soon claiming a room for herself, Kori followed in her wake. Jason gave Dick a look. Dick rubbed the back of his head, laughing lightly at the chaos. When his eyes landed on Damian, they turned serious. His brother had crouched down to pick up the puzzle pieces off the ground. “How is he?” He whispered to Jason. “Better,” Jason said, “I’ve prepped enough meals for the whole week, try to stay away from the cereal.” Jason walked up to Damian, they had a whispered conversation and then he patted his shoulder. He stood and walked out the door waving his hand over his shoulder in a goodbye. Dick watched his littlest brother place the last of the puzzle pieces in the box, his heart wrenched. He rushed forward and enveloped his little bat into a tight hug, the image of him being rushed to surgery hadn’t left him, still making him feel raw. “I’ve missed you little D.” He whispered between his younger brother’s shoulder blades. “Get off me Richard.” Damian feigned annoyance but did not try to get away. “I’m so glad you’re doing better.” Dick let go of Damian, wiping the beginning of tears from his eyes. “Tt, you’re here with your family to have a good vacation, stop your bawling.” Damian rolled his eyes, it didn’t escape Dick’s notice that he rubbed at his chest absently. “We should show Mari the beach.”

The week had gone relatively quickly, Damian had made every effort to seem normal, joining the twelve year old’s shenanigans. She had put her family through their paces with her never ending energy and cheerful disposition, bringing out a genuine smile from her uncle once or twice. Dick had noticed though, when Mari was distracted a wistful smile would replace the one he displayed. Nonetheless, Mari had been ecstatic to have her uncle play with her, she had missed him while he had been away. Now in the wake of her excitement, both twelve year old and her mother had fallen asleep, shortly after the projector had been set up to display an action movie that Mari had been adamant to watch outdoors. Dick was nearly falling asleep as well when he noticed Damian stand and walk towards the stone bench that overlooked the ocean. With a grunt he stood, he was nearly 40 now and even though he was still extremely fit, age made his bones hurt. He approached his little brother casually and took a moment to observe him, it always surprised him that he had grown a couple inches taller than him, heck he still couldn't get over the fact that Jason had grown so much. He felt a petty sense of relief that at least Tim was still the shortest. “Thanks for making Mari’s stay so fun, little D.” He sat next to his brother and bumped his shoulder against his. Damian grunted in response, his gaze lingering on the stars. "Bruce wants to know if you're ready to come home." He watched his demeanor for any indication to the negative. "I'm not sure," he looked at his older brother with a troubled expression, “How would I know if I’m ready to go?” “Well how do you feel, physically, emotionally?” “Better, I guess,” Damian sighed, gripping the edge of the bench between his legs, “The operation wounds are healing nicely, I don’t think I’ll have any obvious scars and I don’t feel the way I did at the beginning of my healing. It’s just…” Damian rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Dick, his green eyes serious, intense, “I know it was Hanahaki disease that put me through this.”

“How. When. You weren’t supposed to find out until after you had recovered a bit more, you were in a really rough place.” Dick stared at him, his mouth slightly open. “Tt. I checked Jason’s phone after he fell asleep one night…” Damian shrugged, his gaze going back to the stars, ”convinced him to stay with me.” Dick shouldn’t have been surprised, he was a bat after all, he laughed and threw one arm around Damian’s shoulders. Jason had messaged them the morning after, concerned, about his little brat’s vulnerability, if he found out, he was going to be pissed about the trickery. He decided then, that it would stay between them. “I had to know Richard, this sense of loss, it was all consuming and I didn't know.” His voice grew fainter with every word, “Didn't know why I felt this way. I had no Internet, no access to the outside world, I guess for a normal person this type of recovery could have helped, but I needed to know.” “We were just worried about the repercussions of too much information.” Dick squeezed Damian closer. Damian nodded and continued. "The problem was after I found out that it was due to unrequited love. Love, Richard!” He looked at Dick, astounded, “It nearly killed me. How weak…” “It is never weak to love little bat, you know this. I love you and I’m stronger for it.” Dick rubbed his cheek on Damian’s head, nearly tugging him on his lap, Damian didn’t resist. “The doctor said I would lose some memories and that most would come gradually back. It's true, no idea about the memories I might have lost, but I remember most everything, even the part where I sat in the hospital room getting ready for the operation, it gets a bit fuzzy after that.” Dick hesitated, “Do you have any memory of who could have caused the disease?” “Nope, none.” Damian shook his head, “I think I remember all my friends, I remember having dinner and hanging out with a couple of them. I remember the last case I worked on. I remember college and doing projects with some of my classmates, maybe it's one of them," his shrug was constricted by Dick’s arms around him, "but I guess it doesn't matter anymore, since for the life of me I can't even think of who could make me feel so strongly that I contracted a disease.” He scoffed, “It's ridiculous really, embarrassing.” They stayed silent for a bit, Damian clutched Dick’s shirt, he could hear a bit of sniffling, but he gave him the privacy to let him feel. “I can't remember who,” Damian mumbled into his shirt, “but it feels like I should. A part of me hates me for forgetting. My chest is empty, even though I can feel my heart beat. I don't remember the constriction of the thing that nearly killed me, nor how it looked, the only thing left of it is the burning in my throat and that is already healing.” He pulled away rummaging in his pocket until he found the smooth object the size of a coin. He took it out and tried looking through its opaque surface, the moon caught it in its light reflecting a soft green. “I guess, in the end, it's for the best.” Damian whispered. Dick looked at his brother, the silver light of the moon casted enough light on them for him to notice his puffy eyes. “Yeah, I think I'm ready to go home.” Damian said with determination. “And, if you find that you aren’t, when we get there, you can always come back. I’m sure Mari wouldn’t mind returning.” Dick smiled.

[obsessedwithstarwars]

Short Nocturn in Gotham prompt

I have an idea, and no brain space for it so here ya go. If anyone makes a story off this, please tag me!

This is a dp x dc crossover. And Anger Management because I’m obsessed with Jazz x Jason.

Jazz lives in Gotham, and works as a psychologist for Arkham. Things are going as normal as can be expected for Gotham and an Amity Parker. She’s only dealt with a few muggings and kept her head down because she’s Liminal! and doesn’t want to get the attention of a certain group of vigilantes.

What if Nocturn came to Gotham? (I don’t remember much of the episode so hopefully this tracks)

I would personally start it out trying to trick the reader. (Sorry, It’s fun!) A cute chapter or 2, where Jazz and Jason are together. So normal. Super accepting of each other. With so much fluff it hurts. But slowly, as the story goes on, more and more things seem off. Like déjà vu, like she’s done this before?? (Kind of similar to the vibe of that one Doctor Who episode where Donna Noble gets saved to the Library database. I can’t remember if it’s a 2 part episode? I think it’s called Silence in the Library??? I don’t know, and I’m not looking it up. If you see River Song’s first episode with David Tennant’s Doctor then you’ve got the right one. I think.) Jazz just slowly sees inconsistencies, and brushes them off at first. Hey, she deserves a chance to be happy, okay?! But as time goes on, there are just too many to ignore. She has a nagging feeling something’s not right and briefly wonders if it’s a ghost. But the only one that makes sense is Nocturn and he can’t be in Gotham right? Right??!

When she discovers Jason’s Red Hood, the revelation almost shocks her awake (total mistake on Nocturn’s part. He thought the vigilante thing would keep her asleep or deepen her sleep since it’s kinda normal for her with her brother). She does some quick thinking as she feels herself waking up, and yep, it’s definitely Nocturn, and decides she needs help stopping him. Makes a plan. Not a great one, but hey, it was last second. Literally.

Meanwhile Jason POV shows he’s struggling with believing it too. Thinks she’s too good to be true. (I don’t know anything about the DC universe. I’m going off of the fic Friendly Neighborhood Vigilante by @gilbirda Go check it out, it’s amazing!) And when she discovers he’s Red Hood, she does something ghostly (prolly eyes or strong stuff) and he’s like holy crap she’s a meta, and before he’s had a chance to process anything she says something like “Come find me when you wake up.” (gives me Edge of Tomorrow: Live. Die. Repeat. vibes which just feels fitting here) and shoots him in the chest right before shooting herself (non lethal bullets cause what if you can die in your dream?) and that shocks him awake.

She wakes up at her desk in Arkham to find out that all of Gotham is asleep. Thankfully this includes the villains. (But not for long!)

Does she call Danny or try to deal with it herself?

Is Danny the Ghost King?

Does Jason actually go or does Jazz have to find him?

She’s definitely questioning whether what she had with Jason was real. He does the same with her. Personally, I would keep Batman asleep for a lot of it but that’s because I know nothing about him aside from Wayne Family Adventures (which I’ve been told doesn’t count), the classic old show I watch when I’m sick, and a few episodes from Batman: The Brave and The Bold. Also Young Justice, but that was years ago. Before season 3.

If they have nightmares:

Would Jason’s nightmare be the Joker killing him?

Maybe Jazz’s nightmare is about Dan trying to kill her? Or coming back?

And that’s all I got. Maybe I’ll try to write something eventually, but right now my heart is heavy and my brain is fog. So if you have any ideas, go for it and tag me! I would love to know how you would change/finish it!

[dr-tonytonychopper]

BATFAMILY AS FOLKLORE SONGS

i’m honestly shocked i’ve haven’t done this one. this one is a little different tbh, usually i just do characters and maybe lyrics but this time i did actually did explanations and i was watching the long pond sessions so i could get accurate notes on each song. DISCLAIMER there’s a lot of run on sentences and i hope it all makes sense, peace and love-ssb✌️🫶

the 1: steph and tim, i see this as being from both of their povs. i think a relationship between them wouldn’t work long term it would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one

cardigan: dick/babs, i know that all writers have their own opinions on who is the “other woman” but timeline wise it’s kori so i see this as being from babs pov bc she goes back to him no matter what

the last great american dynasty: The Wayne’s, i feel that after Bruce adopts his kids and starts collecting others he starts kinda shifting what the wayne’s are where as when he grew up it was about image, poise and galas he starts to change and all he cares abt is if his kids are comfortable i had a marvelous time ruining everything

exile: jason and bruce, even though this song is like two lovers fighting i think it can be interpreted as jason being upset after tim becomes robin and it took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it and i can see bruce’s pov of being fed up with giving jason the chance to do the right thing but him not doing it like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me second, third and hundredth chances balancing on breaking bridges, i couldn’t turn things around you never turned things around

my tears ricochet: damian and talia, “it’s a song about greed. it’s a song about how somebody could be your best friend and your companion and your most trusted person in your life and then they could go and become your worst enemy who knows how to hurt you because they were once your most trusted person.” Taylor Swift long pond sessions you had to kill me but it killed you just the same this whole song and specifically this part and the quote reminds me of when talia made and had a clone of damian kill him i didn’t have it in me to go with grace and you’re the hero flying around saving face you hear my stolen lullabies

mirrorball: Stephanie, i’ve never been a natural all i do is try i know everyone is like this is dicks songs it’s not he’s the natural however i feel stephanie is put on this pedestal for being independent but she’s not and i feel like she morphs herself into a different version of herself depending on who she’s with “we have mirror balls in the middle of a dance floor because they reflect light they are broken a million times and that’s what makes them so shiny. we have people like that in society. they hang there and everytime they break it entertains us” Taylor Swift long pond sessions

seven: damian and jon, it’s a song abt besties idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ past down like folk songs the love lasts so long

august: kori/dick, IM SORRY DICKORI/ KORI STANS! to me when writers write this love triangle they write babs as the one, she’s smart and sensible and someone to settle down with while kori is written as a fling and something that is just someone who’s there in the moment and that’s what august is about it’s about this girl who was seen by this guy as a fling while she is truly falling for him and from everybody’s pov she’s this bad girl and temptress while all she wants is to love and to be loved

this is me trying: tim, they told me all my cages were mental so i got wasted like all my potential, tim is often now written as this happy go lucky character and i think that in red robin he’s fighting some real demons but in the newer runs he’s fighting to make it through the day or insecurities about his position in the family or as a superhero or even as bernard’s boyfriend and i feel like it’s just so real like no other character is going to compare to me when it comes to that and when it comes to his position in everyday life he is the definition as wasted potential he is crazy smart and charismatic but he just hates school and hates studying i was so ahead the curve that the curve became a sphere

illicit affairs: bruce/ talia, bruce and talias relationship is not healthy but i do believe that they both or at least bruce loved the other person and i feel like it shouldn’t even be described as an relationship because it seems like a means to an end

invisible string: the entire batfamily, definition of right place at the right time

mad woman: cass, in the comics and fics cass is often written to be a crazy, feral woman and i think that it’s a narrative constantly written about women and i feel like men are written as traumatized while women are not written or perceived with that tone they are written as vindictive or crazy

epiphany: babs and jim gordon, epiphany is written paralleling WWII to the pandemic and i think the perfect parallel in comic book history is babs and commissioner gordon fighting the same fight but taking different paths or routes and aaron dessner describes the song as comparing taylor’s family history and hero’s of today and i feel like that’s the perfect way to describe it

betty: babs/dick/kori, i already described my thoughts twice but i feel like dick would maybe take more accountability

peace: bruce/selina, imma be honest i don’t know if it’s canon that bruce doesn’t do relationships bc of batman but it’s fitting and i feel like it’s probably that even in relationships with other heroes is a conversation to be had bruce truly can’t give selina peace, he cannot promise stability or a promise of staying alive or not being over tabloids as he’s the richest man alive all these people think loves for show but i would die for you in secret

hoax: duke, duke is the one character that i can’t really get a read on but as the newest member of the batfamily i feel like there’s still this feeling in him that’s like i have this new family and i love them but at the end of the day i want my parents my parents that raised me at the end of the day he’s a boy who wants his parents. i also feel like he’s still trusting of people and he reaps what he sowed everytime

the lakes: tim/bernard: tim always has an exit plan and it’s always escaping by himself to be by himself and i feel like it’s the same no matter who he’s with but when he met and started dating bernard he finally found someone to escape with and exit the hero world for im setting off, but not without my muse

batfam (taylor’s version) is coming so lmk what albums you guys want next🤭🤭

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Wishes & Dreams

First posted: April 23, 2019

Focuses on: Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth

Favorite bookmark: "👌👌👌👌👌👌👌 that good shit"

Tier: Middle of the pack at best

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

Another ficiversary request, and this was one I allllllmost declined, just because "Breathing" was so perfect for me just as it was. But because I used TQT as a framework for the last fic, I knew I had to continue that with this one, so it was fun to figure out whose POV and how. Alfred as a kind of Petrus just made sense.

The nightmares were bad that night. He knew they would be. When the screaming began, it was not a question of if or even when, but rather a question of who and in what order.

It's one of those things that are so obvious once they're said out loud, but until they are... Like, of course Jason is going to have some PTSD consequences, but so are the others! Even Tim and Damian, who weren't affected by Jason's first death, saw him get stabbed and almost die and also their dad faint. Lots to process.

No one had slept on the flight back either, not truly. Master Jason had dozed off and on, twitching and muttering in his sleep only to quiet again when Master Bruce murmured in his ear. Masters Tim and Damian also had subsided into hooded, disassociated states close to rest but not quite there. Alfred himself had split his time between the entirety of the family, assessing young Damian’s bruises, monitoring Jason, and taking turns at the helm with Master Dick. As for his part, Bruce never left Jason’s side.

The whole title thing is such a bother. I go back and forth on how Alfred refers to them all within the privacy of his own head. Here I just split the difference and established the initial naming with the title and then dropped it from there.

Ordinarily, Jason would protest being called a boy. Much like Damian he was in that way. And, truth be told, there was little boyishness left in his appearance. Death had filled him out in ways Alfred could scarcely believe, broadening his shoulders and deepening his voice. Death and that wretched al Ghul clan. It was a man, not a boy, who had protected his brothers at great cost to himself, a man who had hid the truth to spare them further damage. But it was still a boy who had fussed under Alfred’s care, the same boy who used to squirm away from plaster over skinned knees and ice packs to swollen eyes blooming black. And it was, in many ways, still just a boy who had fought to reach his father’s side, when he had thought there was danger afoot.

I will never be over Jason dying as a child and coming back so radically changed physically. Like, think about the cases where kids are abducted and are found years later as adults themselves, how wild that seemingly instantaneous shift is for their families.

Alfred couldn’t wholly stifle the grunt as he heaved himself to his feet. His hip had gone stiff in the waiting, the movement sending a twinge down his leg to match the ache in his lower back and the gritty burning behind his eyelids.

I love seeding human fallibility into Alfred.

“Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was soft now, low and conciliatory in the proper way for frightened children and dangerous men.

🥺

The sweat-plastered head snapped in the direction of his voice. Blue eyes stared but did not see. A splotch of red was beginning to spread across his abdomen, staining the cotton t-shirt. That would be stitches popped, then.

Let me tell you, writing a KOA scene from Petrus-as-Alfred's view is such a trip. (Not in the least because Alfred is far more Galen.)

“Is there danger?” “Does he need water?” “Aw, Jay—Al, I’ll get him a new nightshirt, don’t worry.” “I can fetch some clean bandages.” “Was it a nightmare?”

I think they would be offended, being compared to the attendants, but they are. yap yap yap

Into the silence, Bruce spoke. “Your brother has made his wishes clear. To bed with you, or to the kitchen for warm milk if you can’t sleep, but it is time for you all to leave.”

I don't know that Bruce would like his TQT foil any better, though. 😂

He was watching Jason on the off-chance that the boy decided to throw the second knife now clutched in his hand. They would likely be safe—though thrown in panic, the first projectile had not been aimed to injure—but Alfred thought it wise to monitor against, regardless.

Jason would never, even in anger or panic or fear. As long as he recognizes them, he wouldn't.

“That was the worst,” Jason groaned as he sagged into his father. Bruce hummed. “You always were an overenthusiastic puker.”

This pops up again in later fics and is stolen directly from my brother, the kid who would puke so aggressively that he would bust blood vessels in his face.

Jason huffed a shaky laugh, then turned to press his forehead against the side of Bruce's neck. That was something he used to do as a child, Alfred remembered with a start, wondering how he could have forgotten. When compared to Dick, Jason had always been the more standoffish of the two, but he had been known to cling when truly distressed. 

It isn't only Bruce and Jason who forget the little things. Loss and distance steals from us all.

“Bruce,” Jason whispered, “promise me you’ll make sure I’m dead next time. Promise me you won’t bury me alive. Or cremate me. And promise me you won’t bring me back.”

I love it any time this is addressed in a fic, even in passing. Sometimes other people have Jason want the exact opposite, and that's okay too. I just like it when it's something he's clearly thought about and stressed over, because of course he has!! (And if you know TQT and know what this conversation actually was in that story.......)

Bruce had his face turned so his lips were pressed into his son’s sweaty, matted curls. A single tear had streaked his face, shimmering in the light before disappearing into the tired lines that creased his skin. Old. They had all become old when Alfred had looked away.

😭

“I’ll make sure you have some sort of alarm, how about that?” Bruce offered. Despite the hitch in his voice, he sounded warm and soothing, much like his own father, God rest his soul.

They've lost so much.

Alfred sniffed disdainfully as he reemerged, his heart tucked neatly back into his pocket. 

That's him. That's Alfred Pennyworth.

“Alfred’s not old,” Jason protested with a yawn. “He’s immortal. That’s a different thing.”

That's him. That's Alfred Pennyworth. But also wow what a thing to say immediately after their last conversation.

Despite the night’s fright, both of the bed’s occupants were blinking dozily by the time Alfred closed the kit again.

That's an adverb we as a society should use more often.

“The privileges of an old man. You are all still little boys to me.” Alfred bent and pressed his lips to Jason’s forehead, then to Bruce’s. “Goodnight, sirs. Only the sweetest of dreams to you both.”

Alfred as Petrus. Alfred as Phresine. Six of one, half dozen of the other.

[badcaseofcasey]

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) | Part 2 aka: my Steddie soulmates au, Eddie's POV (Part 1) (Steve's POV)

a/n: since writing Steve's POV, I've realized that Chrissy specifically mentions Eddie being in Hawkins for middle school, but I already had Tommy/Carol establish that Eddie moved to Hawkins for his sophomore year - so that's what we're going with lol. Canon is just a suggestion anyway.

The experimental chemo had worked - for a time. Eddie’s mom was able to go back to work, and spend time with him outside of the hospital. For a while, it looked like she’d been able to escape the worst of it; but the cancer came back, and this time, no amount of chemo or radiation could bring his mom back.

His mom’s death had been hard on him, but he was surprised by how much it affected his dad. The fun-loving, if irresponsible, dad who had taken him on joyrides and taught him how to repair (and hotwire) cars was gone; instead, a sullen, often-drunk person had taken his place and Eddie had started spending pretty much every school holiday with Wayne.

Eddie didn’t mind at first; the lack of any parental supervision meant he could do basically whatever he wanted. He explored the city’s music scene, went to every venue that would let him in, and soaked up the world of counterculture. He sewed patches on vests and learned power chords on borrowed guitars and found a version of himself that could handle losing his mom to cancer and slowly losing his dad alongside her.

As the years went by, though, his dad’s drinking got worse and worse, and eventually he forgot to be careful when he stole a car and got picked up for grand theft auto. Tack on the possession charges from the weed in his pocket, along with the DUI, and Eddie’s dad wasn’t getting out of jail for a long time.

In hindsight, it was probably one of the best things that had happened to Eddie.

But it came with moving to Hawkins, which, while Eddie loved his uncle, was exactly the sort of backwater town where a guy like Eddie would stick out like a sore thumb. His long hair and dark clothes immediately set him apart from the crowd, and the rumors about him coming to Hawkins because of his screw-up of a father didn’t help.

Hawkins really was the last place Eddie wanted to be, truly; if he couldn’t help the small flame of excitement that lit every time he remembered that Hawkins was where he got his words, no one needed to know but him. The chance of seeing his soulmate again was far outweighed by the rest of it.

Starting at Hawkins High as a sophomore was rare - most of the kids had known each other since Kindergarten. Eddie had resigned himself to being a loner as soon as he’d walked in the doors on day one. That was fine by him - at this point, he was comfortable not fitting in.

He was shoving his textbooks into the locker he’d been assigned by the bored woman in the front office when a shiver rolled down his spine. He jerked his head up to see what had caught his attention and his eyes landed on a slightly scrawny freshman in a butter yellow polo shirt.

Something about him drew Eddie’s attention; maybe it was the way he was so the opposite of everything Eddie was. Or maybe it was that he embodied everything about the mainstream that Eddie had learned to hate.

“Steve!”

The kid’s head turned at the name, called from further down the hall. As Steve passed Eddie, he could feel his heart thundering against his ribs, disbelief and disappointment coursing through him.

Eddie had waited more than five years to see his soulmate again, and this is what the universe had in store for him?

Eddie couldn’t help but stare at Sir Steve, his once-knight in shining armor, as he passed by. Steve was clearly popular - even for a freshman. He drew eyes as he walked down the hallway towards Eddie and more than one girl turned to face her friends and giggled as he walked by.

Steve’s eyes caught Eddie’s, and for a moment, a part of Eddie hoped Steve had recognized him. But that moment passed; no flash of recognition, no bolt of lightning from the heavens. Steve’s eyes drifted on to the next person and left Eddie behind.

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[pearlypairings]

annual writing self-evaluation

Thank you @justhere4thevibez for tagging! I woke up so early bc I'm still not adjusted well to the time difference on my vacation so I figure I could work on this to kill some time💕

1. List of works published this year (in no particular order):

Meet Me At Our Spot

Coffee and Contemplation *

Dear Donna,

painting (a masterpiece)

not a sound, but the wind

In the Shade of Aurelias *

all good dates begin at the cemetery

so much (for) stardust

there is a light that never goes out *

* = WIP

(I have a few more anon works too which were fun to try some new things with😄)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

OH this is tough… I think I have to choose two. I'm so proud of not a sound, but the wind for many reasons. I tried a lot of new writing techniques within that story, which honestly the first images came to me at 2am fever dream of Chrissy with short hair and distraught pushing her way through the woods in a blizzard. I didn't know where the story was going but once I got started I had so much fun. And right now I'm also very proud of there is a light! It's my rarepair fic that I've fallen in love with for chrissy x jonathan and it's been a true delight to meet other people in the fandom from that fic alone!

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Hmm I think painting (a masterpiece) is one that I would probably revisit to edit and change if given the option. I don't think it's terrible by any means, but it was really a self indulgent fic for me inspired by the song of the same name. I think I published it very quickly without letting it simmer for edits, so I would change some of the beats for pacing.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

From not a sound, but the wind

“Do you comfort all your crying customers?” She let her fingers graze his palm as she accepted his makeshift tissue with a sad smile.

“Only the ones I like.”

Chrissy dabbed her eyes, praying that none of the mascara smeared beyond recognition. “You’re not gonna sell me anything, are you?”

“Who said that? If there’s any time you need pot, it’s now!”

A small laugh shook her fragile frame, warmth spreading across her chest from within. She folded the bandana into a small square and tucked it into her pocket with a sheepish grin. The last of her tears iced over the corners of her eyes.

“Coming from my dealer, that sounds a little like a sales pitch.”

Eddie fell back, miming an arrow through his heart and rigorously pulling the invisible weapon out from his chest. “You wound me. How about half off and twice as much?”

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

ALL of my comments on there is a light are my favorites. People really enjoying my take on jonathan (a character that even I slept on and didn't really connect with until I saw things from his pov) and being really supportive of my WIP that's ending soon! It's really been such a joy to read all the lines each reader loved and the plot twists they had guessed right or wrong. It's been the best!

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

2023 was a……year. Yeah, I think the fall was very hard because of some family hospitalizations that were very scary and exhausting. So I didn't have the energy nor the will for quite a bit after that to write much. I'm hoping 2024 is all for good health and better headspace.

7. A scene or character that you wrote that surprised you:

At the risk of sounding really cheesy, I really loved the scene in not a sound when Chrissy and Eddie are about to kiss. The two chapters with back to back pov were so much fun to write bc we get little glimpses into both perspectives of the situation and how wrong they interpret the other person's reactions. It's so cute and I didn't intend to write an eddie pov chapter when I started that fic, it just happened (and we got more Wayne which is always a plus).

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I have a long way to go with this, but I think I'm finally shedding parts of my past where for work I had to write scientifically and directly. It's so hard for me to break that frame of mind, so I'm constantly going back in edits to add in more details and worldbuilding and mood setting beyond action and dialogue. In 2024, one of my goals is to do enough exercises where that flows more naturally in the drafting process.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

LOL oops! I sort of just answered that question, but another goal of mine is to continue to finish my beloved WIP Aurelias AND write a ton more for rarepairs to stretch my imagination.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Losty, @1lostsoul0fishbowl you are all of the above. So glad we found each other on this site and via Dear Donna,. It's been lovely getting to know you and I appreciate all the times you've read through drafts and ideas and insanity on my part. You da bomb diggitty 💣

11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:

Definitely…. The break up in there is a light is loosely based on a real break up between me and my first high school boyfriend. The AUDACITY. But definitely many, many other little bits of dialogue or scene set ups are from moments in my life :) the life of a writer.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Write it down. WHEREVER you are (unless driving lol). Whatever the idea is, the dialogue you thought of, the plot puzzle piece. Just write it down somewhere on your phone, in a notebook etc. Because you will forget it and it will frustrate you lol.

13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

2024 is when I'll be finishing Aurelias! Slow and steady because it's my baby and very setting/period heavy. And there's a few tricks up my sleeves for future fun projects that I'll be writing mostly for me (and maybe losty lol). AND I CAN'T WAIT! Rarepairs galore ✨

What a fabulous evaluation and deep look at the past year! Can't wait to see what 2024 brings 💞 happy new year!

[medusapelagia]

My 2023 in Fanfics

Thank you so much to @cxwzkeys for the tag! I'll definitely check your fics!

Here are my favorite fics I wrote for every month in 2023. Apart from one, they are from Stranger Things and most of them are rated E and have dark themes!

January: no fic in English

February; no fic in English

March: Guilty - Steddie- one shot - 10k- my first fic in English ever

April - Never Again - Steddie - Completed - 54k - I was obsessed with this fic, I never wrote so fast and I had some really cute comments about the fact that I probably should have slowed down, but I was obsessed so... 😅!

May - The guitar, from Steddie Week - one shot- 2k - my first event ever but I didn't have a Tumblr blog at the time 😂

June: Geraskier - Would you love me more (If I killed someone for you?) - one shot - 5k

July: An Imaginary friend - Steddie - one shot - 3k - A little drabble from Wayne's POV that became a fic.

August: I wrote 2 fics a day for 15 days, do no recommend, but I loved AU-gust! My favorite is 08 AU-gust Robots and Androids - Steddie - complete - 23k

September: I don't have a favorite for this month. I completed a fic I'm not really proud of.

October: many, many, many events, but the two fics I am more proud of are: my super crazy Metal Sandwich fic (this is a no judgment zone, right?) Adventure Movie: Jurassic Park + Kinktober Day 4 [NSFW] - one shot - 1k , and my Steddie The Crow AU - It can't rain all the time - Completed - 24k

November: Steddie Omegaverse - I'm so good at telling lies (That came from my mother's side) - Completed - 40k

December: Harringrove - my super self indulgent mermai AU - The restless sea calls back to you - one shot - 15k

This year: I hope to finally start to keep track of how many words I write and maybe even meet my goal of writing 1.000.000 words! Last year I stopped around 900k so I think I could actually make it! And I hope to have the opportunity to do other collaborations with artists because the ones I had were and are so much fun! 🤩

My no pressure tags (because I'm a curios little gremlin!!!) are: @rindecision, @cranberrymoons, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @lorifragolina, @pearynice, @kallisto-k, @whataboutthefish and everyone who wants to join!

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

Give Me Something Good To Eat

A second Garvez Halloween minific, this one inspired by @darcyfangirlsfrequently answer to an ask. My pov is Luke does not dress up for Halloween, so I write from that perspective, but Darcy thinks he's a secret Costume wearer. WC:860

She wasn’t spying on him.

It was’t like she wanted to see him.

 And she certainly wasn’t seeking him out to harass him about not wearing a costume on Halloween. 

She had no idea what he did on Halloween. In fact, he could be throwing a great big party for his whole street for all she knew. 

Penelope scoffed, rolling her eyes at the thought. Right, Luke Alvez willingly throwing a party and wearing a costume. She wanted to believe that he would be having fun. He tried to be playful at work, and he went to post-case drinks and let loose sometimes. But something about him told her he was more reserved than that.

She considered his stance as she finished her drive. Was Luke Alvez the costume sort of person? If he did dress up, it would probably be something boring, like his old Rangers uniform. No, scratch that. I bet he still has that 'don’t deface the uniform' mindset. ‘Eeeah, he doesn’t dress up. 

But it didn’t really matter, because that’s not why she was there. 

 No, she had to come over. He forgot a file, she was just making sure he got it. And yeah, she had plans tonight, OF COURSE she had plans tonight.  She was judging the costume contest. She was just being a good teammate. It’s not like she’d use the see-throughest of see-through excuses to come 45 minutes out of her way just to see him. No. She knew how dedicated he was to his work, she didn’t want him to beat himself up for forgetting it. 

She found his street was packed with cars. It seemed no one there was parked in a driveway, all drives fully decked out, so she had to park and walk. This way she could sneak up on him at least, Ester was pretty noticeable. Not that she needed to sneak up on him. 

As she approached, she could see him, porch light illuminating his figure in the dark. His costume was subtle. If you didn’t know him you might assume he hadn’t dressed at all.

But, there was Luke sitting on the wooden bench next to his front door in ripped jeans, a black tee, and a Wayne’s World hat, bowl of candy on one side, Roxie in black-framed glasses and one of his flannels on the other. 

"Trick or treeeeeaaat!” Penelope sung out from the sidewalk. 

"Oh no, not today. Go go away, Garcia. Turn your cute little cat tail back down that path. You never saw this.” he hollered from his spot.  

“Oooohhh too late, Newbie!” she giggled with glee snapping a picture and typing furiously as she sauntered up the walkway. “Everyone needs to see this.”

"Who knew you were a secret costume lover?! You don’t even like party time, let alone think it’s excellent.” She continued to tease. 

“Shut up. Just stop.” he was hiding his face in his hands, but she could hear the smile through his faux misery. “Why are you here? Did you come specifically to torture me? Devil’s night was last night, you demoness.”

“I am choosing to ignore that remark because I am such an angel. I can’t believe you put Roxie in a costume, you make so much noise about animals in human clothes.”

“A costume one night is very different from a dog in a sweater everyday of it’s life! And Roxie’s used to wearing a vest out in the field.” he justified. “So, miss me already? You know, if you wanted to spend time with me all you had to do is say so.” he winked.  

“Hardly.” Penelope shot back "You forgot some files… So. Here.” she said, pulling papers from a tote on her shoulder and handing them over. She stood awkwardly shifting from foot to foot looking around his neighborhood. She didn’t want to leave yet, but she had no reason to stay and she’d certainly never admit as much. 

Luke being a profiler, and Penelope being Penelope, he noticed, naturally. Clearing his throat, “You know, Garcia…since you’re here, you could stay…Help me pass out candy, love on Roxie…Maybe come inside an-”

 “NO!” flew out nearly instantly. “Uh, I mean, no, thank you, though. I have plans. I’m helping judge the costume contest at O’Keefe’s... I should get going.” frowning apologetically.

"Right. Well, maybe next year.” he said, hiding his disappointment behind a bright smile and a few rubs to Roxie’s side.

Did he really read her wrong? Why were her signals saying something so different? 

Unable to resist a final tease, "Maybe next year you’ll come out with the team, since they all know you’re so into it now.” she tossed over her shoulder, turning to walk back up the path.

He watched her retreating for a minute, tail and hips swinging back up the walkway, then lunged after her. “Garcia!” She only had time to hear the heavy foot falls before reacting. 

Luke ran behind, catching her low on the back as she turned. A feather-light kiss dusted her cheek as sneaky fingers tucked a small candy bar down the dramatically cut neckline into her perfectly pushed up cleavage. “You forgot your something good to eat…Happy Halloween, Chica.”

Penelope wasn't sure if she was mad, shocked, or turned on. She would not address that last feeling as she was sure she was feeling a mix of all three. "You're lucky I'm late." She gritted out stomping away. Luke watched the heat flash in her eyes before she turned. "I heard you had a thing for hot chocolate. Let me know if I can help you with that later."

Also, she's a cat again because @bacchicly said more kitty kisses hahaha

[asimper]

A year and a day

Inspired: Lord Huron - "The Night We Met"

Pair: Bruce Wayne x reader

Warnings: none

POV: you will understand from the context, some romantic drama here

***I am sorry, this is my first writing here. I was just thinking for a long time about this scene and decided to put it somewhere... Sorry 💔 ***

I had been waiting for him for hours. He booked this place a long time ago, where was the first date, saying a lot of lovely words about how wonderful it would be... He forgot it... He forgot and didn't come. I am so stupid to think that he will take it seriously. Of course, he had other things to do, more important than to spend this night with me. Huh, just a day, nothing significant. But I bought him the most expensive watches, ordered with "It will stop when my heart will end loving you", with the unlimited power of working. 300.000$ for a thing. Y/N, you are a serious woman, run a business, but hoped that this man will change from an adventurous bachelor to a lovely man ready for relationships... Stupid woman... I am so stupid...

*

-Master Wayne, what date is it today? asked Alfred walking into the cave and looking at a dark blue box.

-The 15th, he was working on a new system of security around the city, that will manage to determine the robber in some seconds.

-Actually, it is the 21st, he gave him the box and looked with disappointment at him. She came early in the morning, refused to enter the house, just gave me this box, and said that she understood you and your intentions to her. Oh, and she named you an asshole, but I would name you worse, he took off his glasses, smooth over the nose where had been the glasses. How could you forget?

-I... I didn't forget it, okay? We both know that these days I was working and sleeping. And... Was she crying? Bruce was worried, looking at the box with an uncomfortable feeling.

-No, but we both know that she did it yesterday. You are going to lose her. She makes you happy, but you make her cry.

Bruce took the box from the table and opened it. One of the most expensive watches... Petek Philippe Grand Complications. On them were written, "Look on their back".

-It will stop when my heart will end loving you, said loudly and he fell on the table in pain. How could I lose the time?

-I can buy you something to give her. I saw a very beautiful necklace that... Alfred didn't finish, looking surprised how he took from nowhere a light blue box.

-I was going to purpose her. I know, a year is too early, but...

-Her flight to London will be in 4 hours, you can take a shower before going and stop your air-jet.

He hugged him and run away.

They met a year and a day ago, at a gala. Bruce and Y/N are the people that rule with Gotham but didn't know each other until that night. They lovely talked, discovered that Y/N has 40% of the Gotham's airport, Bruce 45%. She owns a company of cybernetic prostheses, she could literally make from a dead man in a healthy and strong, thanks to engineering degree and mom's lessons of neurology. After that gala they met again, he asked her on a date in that restaurant. He gave her red roses, of course, he found everything she likes and dislikes. They talked, and walked, and laughed... He was never so free to someone as with her, even if everyone said that Y/N is a severe woman. At the end of the night, they kissed. Bruce didn't want to spend a night with her and forget, he wanted more, even if she was ready to go with him that night. She was often traveling from Gotham to London, where her company had the main building, but she always tried to spend her time with him, even when he was full in work. Y/N knew that he is Batman, she always knew it, and she took care of his injuries whenever she was in Gotham.

She gave her luggage and went to her flight. Disappointment. Heartbreak. She should expect it... She laid on the chair, reading her book, something about the human body.

-Why we are not taking off? she asked neutral and when she looked up, she saw Bruce. What are you doing here?

-Y/N, he sat in front of her and tried to take her hands in his, but she pushed him away, looking with hate. I didn't forget. I know that we were supposed to go to that restaurant on the 20th. I was working and I... I lost the track of time. I thought until Alfred came that is the 15th.

-Don't lie to me, Mister Wayne. Be honest, you didn't even pay attention to our "meetings", she was full of anger, almost ready to cry from a breakdown. You don't love me, but I couldn't see it before.

-Don't say it, you know it is not true.

-I want you to leave, said but Bruce was sitting next to her, continuously looking at her. Bruce, leave my fucking plane.

-It is mine also, 5% more than yours, he said with a little smile. Don't be a dummy, you are a wise woman.

She saw her gift on his hand, but instead of happiness, she felt disgusting.

-In this case, I will leave, she took her book and stuff, arranging everything in her bag. We are going to meeting separately, not even talking together. We have never met in a public place. We say that we are single. I am not even a girlfriend to you, Bruce. I need to shut up when young reporters flirt with you, but if someone is touching me, you are ready to burn the entire planet, her nerves were done, tears laying on her cheeks, trying to handle her sobs. For sure you cheated on me already. God, I am so stupid that I thought that you, a bachelor that slept with more women than I can imagine, will stop on me, a girl with not a manipulative personality, not a model or ballerina, and with a gap of 20 years. SAY SOMETHING! she shouted at him and stopped in fear of the light blue box.

It was open and... Tiffany & Co. Schlumberger, Two Bees, Engagement Ring... She froze, still sobbing in silence.

-Y/N L/N, I planned to say it yesterday, but... Will you marry me? he stood up and went closer, gently taking her left hand. I hope it is the right size. Of course, it is, I took the size of the rings you are wearing when you went to the shower at your house, he smiled looking at her hand.

-You were last time in my house half a year ago, she murmured staring at him.

-And? he started to clean her face from mascara and salty tears. I was sure that you are my perfect woman from the first met, from the night we met, darling, he sat down. I wanted it to be perfect, but I messed up, as usual.

-Bruce...

She kissed him, feelings of happiness messing with anger, butterflies in the stomach, and a lot of things, like where are they going now. He took her thin body in his big hands, hugging her like it is the only reason to live.

-Y/N Wayne, she whispered in his lips and giggled. The best gift you could give me. I love you so much.

-I love you too, my lovely wife. You know, he kissed each finger from her hand with the ring, meanwhile, she is looking at it, it was pretty hard to take that size, I sized with my finger.

-Dummy, she laughed and kissed him again. Where are we going now?

-To our ceremony, Mrs. Wayne. We are going to Bali, where it will be the dress that you wore in London for fun and liked a lot, and we will get married at the seaside. We will take a lot of photos and post them everywhere, to know who you belong to.

-More precisely, who YOU, playboy and millionaire, belong to, they laughed and kissed again...

[owlinabasket]

20 First Lines

Tagged by @buginateacup. <3 Thank you for thinking of me!!

Rules:  List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your  favorite opening, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Since I only have a few stories uploaded to AO3 I've added my WIPs to the rest of the list as a fun teaser. (I've left Unravel Me off the list for now because there is no buildup to that one, it just immediately plonks you in the middle of the action which is not appropriate XD) '*' indicates a working title.

1. The Villain's Menagerie - Roxanne wakes up with a familiar blur of burlap dancing across her vision.  Oh, joy.

2. Call Me Queen - The afternoon sun shines golden through the tall windows of Roxanne's loft apartment, the beams briefly interrupted by a narrow shadow against the glass.

3. In the Golden Morning - A comfortable silence blanketed the kitchen in the early hours of the morning, punctuated by the soft scrape of the spatula against the frying pan.

4. Crumbs and Scorch Marks - “You want to do what?” James Smith, warden of Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted, looked down into the wide green eyes of his tiny ward.

5. The Pet Store Anomaly - The tiny bell chimed over his head and Megamind cringed as the sound immediately set off a chain reaction of screeching from the bird cages at the opposite end of the store.

6. Cold Snap - Roxanne wakes up staring at the ceiling of the invisible car with Minion’s soft singing in her ears.

7. Machine Learning - It was a quiet Sunday afternoon in the lair.

8. Lost in the Rhythm* - December. It was December when she last saw Megamind, which made this the longest period of silence since he took up the mantle of supervillain.

9. and the hardest part of love is letting go - Grieving Wayne has not been an easy process.

10. I'm Listening* - Dr. Dunya Zavian had some very conflicted thoughts about her career path.

11. Line Without a Hook - It had crept up on Megamind rather suddenly.

12. No One Mourns the Wicked - A merry crowd slowly trickled into the courtyard in front of city hall, the shallow reflecting pool cloudy with soot and chunks of crumbling concrete.

13. Robe* - If you were to ask Megamind to predict his favourite kidnappee's reaction upon seeing him fling open the glass doors of her balcony, he would have a few thoughts.

14. Whenever You're Away From Me - Roxanne only has to wait one ring before her boyfriend answers.

15. Aches* - Wrapped in a thin black robe, Megamind glares into the narrow bathtub waiting for the Epsom salts to dissolve in the scalding water.

And that's all! The other three files in my WIP folder are mostly point form with no solid opening line.

Most of them are about setting the scene, I guess? Five are from Roxanne' POV and eight are from Megamind's. Some are in-between or flip between POVs, I haven't decided for #12 but it starts from Metro Man's perspective. I notice that I flip between tense styles, which hopefully isn't too jarring-- I'm trying to figure out what I prefer. As for my favourite opening line... hmm. Probably #1 and #4? #11 is probably going to change, it's my least favourite so far but it has been a tough one to write because of the angst.

If you're interested in doing this yourself, consider yourself tagged! :3

[ddwcaph-game]

MWCAPH! Development Post #3

(Second development post)

Hi, hello! It's time for another development post!

I've mentioned this before in the old demo forum thread, but for those who don't know, MWCAPH! originally came from my NaNoWriMo 2015 novel, Book Bounded. I reached 50k words, but it was a trash draft and I don't think I ever reached the halfway point of the story. And let's just say, the premise of my story has changed a lot since then.

(Minor character spoilers, but this is the earliest drawing of Roselyna I remember. The ferret with handcuffs was a joke character from one of my early RPs back in the day.)

I talked about the inspiration for MWCAPH! in the last update post, but the premise went through quite a bit of iterations before I even arrived with the original trio of Wayne, Roselyna, and Patrick.

So, the earliest idea I can remember… the MC was a priest taking care of a bunch of children (who found children annoying), protecting them from terrorists and a bunch of natural disasters.

Eventually it became a couple of teenagers instead of a priest, until I settled with just Patrick (the other one became his crush). I never really developed the other children, besides proto-Wayne and Roselyna (who I based on two of my high school classmates). I couldn't decide who I wanted to be older, so I just made them twins instead.

Yup, Wayne and Roselyna are actually the original twins of the story. I gave their backstory to the MC and created a whole new backstory for them. Patrick was the original protagonist, but once I discovered how much fun it is to write children, I eventually gave each of them a POV… until Patrick was finally demoted to a deuteragonist.

Sometime during that though, I had another story idea I came up with while watching ChalkZone (does anyone remember that show?). The MC was a child who drew a comic in a weird notebook in his grandparents' attic. He and his friends were transported into the comic, and they have to reach the end before they can escape. This went through a lot of idea brainstorming that I don't even remember anymore (I remember wanting to write a story with all the tropes in it!), until I finally had the idea for my NaNo 2015 novel.

And ooh boy, little did I know that everything will change once I added time travel elements...

Anyway, that's it for now! Stay tuned for the next development post!