#(i know in my heart that 'batman' is an excuse for lateness)

[scaryscarecrows]

Gotham Radio

Night Crew-Gotham Knights

Grey Daze-B12

Alice in Chains-Junkhead

Yugen Blakrok-Metamorphosis

In This Moment-Sex Metal Barbie

Innerpartysystem-American Trash

Maiah Wynne feat. Dreadlight-My Strange Addiction

Superheaven-Youngest Daughter

Architects-a new moral low ground

Alice in Chains-Phantom Limb

Armed Love Militia-Stormwinds

Sugarcult-Los Angeles

Halestorm-Brightside

Nirvana-Something in the Way

Deftones-You've Seen the Butcher

Pearl Jam-Wash

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Request idea:

Your darling, adoring, wonderful boyfriend Jason sits you down And solemnly confesses that he is red hood. He’s been dreading this day for months. If you want to leave, he’ll understand and wait—-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?

Jason thinks he’s in an angst fic. The reader is in a rom com where her boyfriend has been a ridiculously obvious superhero, but she’ll let him tell her when he’s ready.

Maybe some shaningany flashbacks where you’ve helped to keep his identity secret (stalling so he can change, giving alibis) while he was oblivious.

- Batchilla

To Wait and To Love

Hi Batchilla! Hope you enjoy! ♡ ~1.5k words

Your boyfriend is a vigilante, Red Hood, to be exact. You know this. He's just not aware you know this.

It's obvious, really, and kind of cute the way he makes excuses to leave. Sure, before you put two and two together, it was starting to seem like he was just dragging you along. But it all made sense when you caught sight of the helmet poorly concealed under his bed.

It makes you wonder if he wants to get caught. Especially when he brings you flowers from the shop you just saw him save from Poison Ivy on TV. Or freezer-burnt cartons of ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop, which was buried under piles of snow courtesy of one Mr. Freeze only twenty minutes ago.

You offer him big smiles and kisses of thanks, and your heart melts a little at how relieved he looks, how baffled he is by your understanding. And you do understand. To tell someone you run around in spandex and leather every night is a big risk, especially for someone who used to run crime in Gotham.

You're no angel yourself, even if he does call you one, and it's endearing to watch him scramble for excuses. It's even more endearing that he tries so hard to make it up to you when he's late, when he has to leave early, when he comes back battered and bruised with flimsy half-thought out explanations.

You'll let him take all the time he needs to tell you, and it's almost funny how easily you've come to cover for him.

"Jason? Oh, he's changing his suit. Someone knocked into me and I spilled my drink all over his jacket. How embarrassing," You laugh out, answering the reporter's question over Jason's absence from the latest Wayne Gala. It's only half a lie, you might not have spilled your drink but he's definitely changing his suit. It's just not the suit anyone would expect.

Once whispers of a break-in at Gotham National Bank started circulating the Gala, it wasn't hard to miss the meaningful glances between your boyfriend and his family. Sometimes you wonder how no one's noticed it before.

You smile brightly at him once he comes back, smelling like gunpowder and leather, and you let him kiss your knuckles while he mumbles apologies over getting caught up with an old friend. You don't imagine Riddler is exactly an old friend, but you teasingly tell him how he owes you a dance for making you wait. He smiles back, his own grin even brighter than yours, as he leads you to the dance floor.

You're opening the door to your apartment, chatting lazily with your friend after a night out.

"Is your boyfriend here? I remember you saying you two were practically living together," they ask, eyes trailing around your living space.

You hum thoughtfully, "We pretty much are. I think he might be sleeping or out looking for the stray cat we saw the other day. It had a bad limp." It's not a hundred percent a lie either, there was a hurt stray. You just know that Catwomen already picked it up, after a text Jason sent to Bruce Wayne's current girlfriend, Miss. Selena Kyle. Which would have been more of a surprise if you didn't already know who Batman was.

But it definitely isn't the truth, because you did catch sight of a red helmet following you and your friend back from the club. (Gotham never felt safer, than when he was watching over you.)

Your friend coos and starts to respond, when a thump sounds from the fire escape. They jolt, "What was that?"

"The cat, probably," You say quickly, letting out a laugh, "it's, uh, pretty big. Has a limp. Hey, did I show you the flowers Jason got me?" You gesture towards the bouquet behind them, and you both focus on the pretty blossoms.

Within minutes, you hear your bedroom door open and close. "Hi, baby," Jason drawls, looping an arm around your waist to pull you to his side, "Sorry, I fell asleep, how was your night?"

You pretend not to notice the limp he's nursing, one you're certain he should be resting, and tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, "It was fun. Missed you."

"I missed you too," he echoes fondly, and the three of you fall into an easy conversation. You distract your friend when you all go to sit on the couch, and if you choose to avoid sitting on his left side, it's certainly not because Red Hood hurt his leg fighting Killer Croc earlier this week.

Jason has never said your name like that before. His eyebrows are knitted together. He's kneeling in front of you, his hands clasped over yours as you sit on the bed.

"I love you and I– I have something to tell you," he chokes out, strained, "please, just– just, hear me out."

It clicks. This is it. He's going to tell you.

You smile and nod, it'll be nice to finally air out this secret. And maybe he could help you work on your excuses? It'll be easier if you're working as a team. You reach out and brush his hair back, unfazed and delighted he's trusting you enough with this, "Of course, Jason. Anything you need to tell me."

Jason is going to throw up. He's finally gotten his act together enough that he's going to tell his partner he's Red Hood. His stomach is churning, it's agony, knowing he could lose them over this.

They're so good to him. So understanding and patient and kind. He has no idea how he got so lucky. And he loves them. It's scary sometimes, how much he loves them. He wants this to last so badly. So, he has to be honest. Has to tell them he isn't what the world says he is.

He's a vigilante. Was a crime lord. He hurts people to save people. He terrifies the trash that calls themselves human. He's not good for you, but he tries. He wants you to still love him.

He wants you to stay so much. Even if he's not good. He wants you. You deserve so much more than the excuses and lies he gives. Jason's wanted to tell you for weeks, but he chokes on his words every time. He's never been so afraid of doing something. Not when he was a kid on the streets. Not when he was Robin. Not as Red Hood.

You look so perfect, sitting at the edge of your bed and smiling at him. He almost flinches when he thinks this could be the last time you smile at him.

He's on his knees. He's prepared to beg. He would beg to keep you.

He says your name, he tells you he loves you. It might be the last time he gets to say that to you. The thought makes him even more nauseous. He tells you he has something to say.

You brush his hair back and keep smiling. He wants to sob. You don't know. You don't know what he is, what he's done.

"I'm Red Hood," he gasps out, voice ragged.

A beat. You're still smiling, you still look happy, and you're nodding at him.

He blinks at you, "I'm Red Hood," he repeats, "I know that- I know it's a lot. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, baby–"

You lean forward and kiss him. He's more than just a little dumbfounded. "Jason, I love you too. I'm not leaving you. I, um, kind of already knew you were Red Hood?" You say, a sheepish smile coming over your face.

"You– what?" Jason stumbles out. You're still here. Still touching him. You kissed him. You look relaxed. Happy.

"I saw your helmet under the bed. Everything clicked after that," You tell him gently.

"And you're okay with that? You're okay with me?" He asks, tone betraying his desperation.

Concern flashes in your eyes, "Of course I'm okay– I'm more than okay with that, Jason. I love you, tights or not."

He lets out a laugh, and his stomach swoops, the tension dissipating throughout his body, "Yeah?"

You grin at him, cupping his face, "Yeah, but you're going to have to show me how you swing around rooftops."

He gets off his knees to kiss you again, he doesn't think this moment could get any better, "Is that all?"

You giggle, at the pure elation in his eyes, and he grins widely at your joy. Then, the moment does get better, "Well, I'm kinda interested in the car Batman drives around you."

"I could make that happen," he murmurs, and seals the promise with another kiss, "You wanna see the batplane too?"

Your eyes light up, and Jason thinks he might be addicted to the mischievous glint that flickers in your gaze.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny slowly lowered himself down onto Luther's newest death machine thanks to his bat themed grappling hook. Making special care not to let his heart beat or his lungs take in breath lest Superman hear him and intervene, he used his intangibility to sink into the machine itself to steal its parts.

Yeah, so a full white outfit wasn't the best choice for stealth, but it was better than dressing like a traffic light. Plus the black gloves and boots made him feel nostalgic. It had been only seven months since the accident that took his life, so much has happened since then.

Biting his lip as he smiled as he began gathering up parts and wires with his intangibility and placing them into his bag. Lastly he grabbed the power source, which-surprise, surprise, is kryptonite.

After he grabbed what he wanted he quickly stuck a note on the maintenance panel of the machine for when someone opened it and discovered it now had a large hollow space, then simply sank down through the floor and flew to freedom.

Danny sighed once he was clear. Or, at least he thought he was.

"Young man." Crud. Danny turned around to see big blue floating behind him in all his red underwear glory. Great. "I believe you have something that doesn't belong to you." The Kryptonian said, looking pointedly at the large chunk of kryptonite Danny held under his arm.

Instead of an excuse, Danny got an idea. "Uh, hello? Recognize the mask?" He said, gesturing to his face.

Superman narrowed his eyes, staring at his face for a few very long seconds and just as Danny was about to cut his losses and book it out of there, a look of recognition graced the heros face. Sweet. "Thats Nightwings mask."

"Yeah. Just smaller."

Superman nodded, then asked, "Why aren't you wearing a bat symbol? I wouldn't have thought you were a thief if I knew you were working with Batman." Danny had to fight to keep his face neutral.

"I haven't decided what symbol I want on my suit yet." And that was true. Danny wasn't sure he wanted any symbol at all. The mark of the bat would mean that he belonged in the batclan, and Danny was a lone ghost. A wandering spirit if you will. He didn't belong anywhere.

Some small part of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Jazz said that might be one of the reasons he's been behaving so poorly lately, but he brushed it off. Superman just nodded sagely. Danny doubted he actually knew how Danny felt and was just nodding along to appear sympathetic. Adults lie, and they lie often. Danny kinda hated them for it.

"Well, I'm kinda on a deadline, so I should get going. Crime to fight, goth furry to annoy, you know how it is." Danny said, waving the arm that wasn't carrying the kryptonite around in the air before using it to readjust the bags strap on his shoulder.

"Alright," superdude smiled warmly, "Tell Batman I said hi." Danny grinned back at him as he jogged away, "Will do!"

That went better than expected. Thank you, Nightwing~! The boy thought to himself as he ran off into a secluded area and turned invisible and flying away.

Just imagining Supermans face if- no- when Batman finally breaks and tells the Justice League about the little menace thats been stealing all his and his sidekicks stuff for the last few weeks nearly sends Danny into hysterics.

Danny still has Robins sword mounted above the fireplace in his favorite safe house in Costa del Sol. Red Hoods "favorite" motorcycle was in its garage and Red Robins wrist computer and chest harness thing were mounded in a glass case next to the first thing he stole from them:

Batmans utility belt.

Sure, its a pain to remove all the tracking stuff from them, but man is he proud of those accomplishments.

Still. Its better to leave Metropolis after he got caught by Superman. Its only a mater of time before someone finds out about the old switcheroo he pulled at the last museum robbery and that combined with the bodies of those creepy rich guys he had killed (human trafficer buyers) well, surely Batman has noticed he had been gone for a while and would pick up on the matching M.O. in Metropolis.

Time to bounce.

[shhhsupertopsecret]

Bats - Connor Kent

an: some sort of established connection between reader and batfamily (I’ll let you decide) and based on the half-canon “No Metas in Gotham” rule because I think it’s funny. I love domestic batfamily. Let them be a lil silly. Not beta'd :) 

WC: 1205

Secretly dating someone with a single brain cell was not for the faint of heart. Dating a meta from out of town while you live in Gotham was also for the faint of heart. 

“Connor, for fuck’s sake!” You fell onto your back, knocking the air out of your lungs, when Connor appeared upside down in your window. He looked at you, his gaze soft with humor. A shit-eating grin pulled at his lips. 

“May I be gifted entrance?” He tilted his head, a strand of hair falling from where his glasses were pushing his hair back. When you had just about gathered your bearings, you pulled him through the window. 

“What if B sees you? Are you out of your mind?” Your face was pinched in reasonable concern. 

“No ‘hello’? No ‘how are you’? No ’thank you for breaking Batman’s rules to come see me because you love me so much?’” He wrapped one arm loosely around your waist. You really did miss him. There hadn’t been a reason to work together as of late. Making excuses to see him when surrounded by detectives was really hard. By god, you missed him.  

“Hello, I love you, I am so happy to see you, I was numb with loneliness before you appeared”, you placed a kiss to the tip of his nose, “Satisfied?”

“I’ll accept it. So…I can stay?” You rolled your eyes at his half-smirk. He was such a dork. 

“Fine, if you must.” Your voice was thick with mock-aloofness, you turned up your nose. You pulled the curtains closed (maybe that was a little paranoid, but all it took was one far away picture in the groupchat to have a dozen bats - mainly Tim - at your door). 

“Movie?” He had already made himself comfortable amongst your pillows and stuffed animals. 

“Of course. My pick this time!” He laughed and relented. As you approached the bed, he opened his arms for you to lay down. You wished he could be with you all the time. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of him, you could not think of anyone you would rather be with, but you were a little apprehensive for the other bats to know. Firstly, you would have to fight Tim for his attention and you were not good at sharing. Secondly, you would be fraternizing with a Kent and Bruce was real weird about Supes. Thirdly, you had a pack of pseudo-brothers who would want a few words. Bad mix. It was nice to share a bubble with Connor.

Halfway through the movie, you and Connor had molded into one person. Arms and legs were entangled. You were both cocooned in your comforter. You laid nearly fully on top of him, ear over his heart. You were half-asleep, more comfortable than you had been in a while. There was a knock at the door, not unexpected as you had ordered food 30 minutes ago. You pulled away from the tangle, not without Connor letting out a whine. 

“Food, babe. Be right back.” You placed a kiss on his forehead and grabbed his jacket off the bedside chair to cover your pajamas. 

“Coming!” You called as you shuffled to the door, pulling it open. 

That was not a pizza delivery. 

You met eyes with Tim. You contorted your body in an approximation of casual body language. 

“Hey, Tim. What brings you to these pastures?” You leaned against the doorframe. That was a really fucking stupid thing to say. You were not selling casual very well. You had been ambushed! 

“...Hey?” If Tim’s expression was anything to go by, you looked crazy. 

“The Computer’s systems went down before I could finish saving some files and Bruce said you had the physical drive?”

“Oh shit, yeah. It’s in my room. Just…wait here.” This was an easy fix. Give Tim the drive and he would be on his way. It was then that it struck you - you were wearing a jacket three sizes too big with very recognizable spikes on the shoulders. If you turn around there would be a blazing emblem sealing your coffin. No way any of this got past Tim. You felt like you were harboring a fugitive. You kept your cool - and slammed the door in Tim’s face. As quickly as possible, you ran to your room and ransacked your own drawers in search of the cursed USB drive. You ran back to the door, no doubt ten times more disheveled than when you first answered it. 

“Here you go!” You pressed the drive into Tim’s palm and slammed the door once again. Crisis averted??? You commenced the walk of shame back to your bedroom, no doubt that Connor heard that whole ordeal. 

“Pastures!?” You picked up the nearest pillow and slammed it into his face. 

“I KNOW!”

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

You received a page to the Batcave. While you were hoping for a break, you were always on call. Not unexpected. You pulled yourself together and headed out the door. Your commute to the manor was thankfully uneventful. The sight that greeted you upon your entrance, however, was unexpected. 

Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian sat around a table at different levels of enthusiasm. Dick and Tim wore matching expressions of mischief while Jason and Damian had equal expressions of disinterest. No doubt they were forced to be here.  

“Thank you for attending this meeting. Some information has come to light that we feel the need to debrief.” Dick was definitely having fun fucking with you. 

“I was forced to be here.” Jason was reading a book under the table. 

“I concur with Todd.” Damian didn’t even look up from the notebook he was drawing in. Aww, you felt so loved. 

“Is this necessary? I don’t interrogate you about your romantic escapades. And you-”, you pivoted to Tim, ”You really couldn’t keep this to yourself! You would think a detective would have more tact.” Tim was still smirking at you. 

“As a detective, I am incredibly nosy.” You leaned over and flicked his forehead.

“Uncalled for!” 

“Very called for!”

“Just wait until we tell Bruce.” You slammed your hands down on the table.

“Dick, please don’t. I will tell him when I have to. I would never get to see him if Bruce knew.” You were dead serious and borderline begging, which seemed to make this less fun. 

“You’re serious about him?” Dick softened into his more caring big brother mode. 

“So serious.” Dick smiled at that. He and the other bats had terrible romantic track records and it made him happy to see you able to succeed in that department. He slipped back into his business demeanor. 

“The council has decided - we will not be reporting to the higher authority, but we will be conducting a thorough examination of the suspect.” Was he a Supreme Court Justice now??? This did seem to perk Jason and Damian’s interest. Figures. Jason did have a history of trying to scare your romantic suitors. You threw an arm around his shoulder around Dick’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, dork. Don’t try to scare him too bad.” If this was their weird way of caring for you, you would let them have it. You would also have to warn Connor. 

[legendary-69420]

Chapter 7: The Billionaire Revelation (Part 1)

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 2)

Charles had been on cloud nine since their recent road trip and camping adventures. The growing bond between him and Mark made him feel lighter, more connected, and excited for what lay ahead. But what came next caught him entirely off guard. One afternoon, while sitting with his younger brother, Arthur, in the Ferrari garage, they casually chatted about the upcoming race when Arthur leaned over with a smirk. "You know, Charles, I always wondered why Mark seemed so comfortable in the spotlight," Arthur mused. Charles raised an eyebrow, curious. "What do you mean?" Arthur casually scrolled through his phone, chuckling. "You really don't know, do you?""Know what?" Charles asked, getting a little impatient now. Arthur flipped his phone around, showing Charles a high-profile article about Mark Spencer—the son of the Italian billionaire Alessandro and Isabella Spencer. Charles stared at the screen, utterly shocked. "Wait, what?" Charles blinked, staring at the headline. "Mark's the son of a billionaire!? THE Alessandro Spencer!?! How have I never heard of this?" Arthur grinned. "Dude, he's loaded. Like, beyond anything you'd imagine. Not to mention, he's famous outside of F1. He's been around celebrities for years. Look at this." Arthur scrolled further through Instagram, revealing pictures of Mark at elite parties, casually hanging out with international superstars. There were photos of him at glamorous galas, on yachts, and even attending exclusive fashion events. Charles shook his head, baffled. "This explains why he's always been so at ease in front of the cameras. And why those celebrities at the party already knew him. He was part of their world long before F1."

It all started to click into place for Charles—the ease with which Mark carried himself, his charm, and his way of brushing off the media frenzy like it was second nature. Mark wasn't just new to the racing world. He had already been living in a world of fame, wealth, and attention.

"Why didn't he ever mention any of this?" Charles muttered, scrolling through the photos in disbelief. "He just—acted so normal." Arthur shrugged. "Guess he didn't feel the need to." After some reflection, Charles decided he needed to understand Mark's world better. So, a few weeks later, they traveled to Italy, and Charles was about to meet Mark's family—on their turf.When they arrived at the Spencer family mansion, Charles was stunned. The estate was enormous—more like a palace than a house. There was a home theatre, a private bar, a jacuzzi, and a massive pool surrounded by perfectly manicured gardens. Every corner of the place screamed luxury. Mark, casually leading the way, looked back at Charles and grinned. "Yeah, I know. It's a bit much, but it's home." Before they could even reach the front door, an older gentleman greeted them with a warm smile. "Master Mark," he said with a slight bow, "your parents will be home soon. They're running a bit late." The man, who Mark introduced as Signore Lazzaro, had been with the family since Mark was born. "He's like Alfred to my Batman," Mark joked, patting Lazzaro on the back. The old man chuckled fondly. Mark's parents were strict, but not in the way Charles had expected. Alessandro Spencer arrived in a crisp suit, exuding a cold and calculated demeanor. His mother, Isabella, though more warm and welcoming, still had a regal air about her. After exchanging pleasantries, they all sat down in the grand living room. Mark received an urgent call from his team, and with an apologetic look, he excused himself from the room."Sorry, I've got to take this—urgent call. I'll be back in a bit," he said before leaving Charles alone with his parents. Now that they were alone, Alessandro's gaze fell on Charles, his piercing eyes studying him for a moment. Charles felt a bit nervous under the weight of that stare, but Isabella quickly eased the tension with a gentle smile.

"So, Charles, how long have you known Mark?" she asked softly, her voice filled with maternal warmth. "For about a year now," Charles replied, still a bit caught off guard by the opulence surrounding him. Alessandro cleared his throat, drawing Charles' attention back to him. "You seem close with him." Charles smiled nervously. "He's a great friend." Alessandro's expression remained stoic, but there was a slight twitch of amusement in his eyes. "Good. He could use a friend like you."After a moment of silence, Alessandro's tone softened, and he began talking about Mark's childhood. "You know, Charles, Mark wasn't always this confident. We put him in every possible class—piano, guitar, singing, cooking, you name it. He excelled at everything, yet he still surprised us when he chose racing." Isabella nodded, her gaze soft. "Yes, our son is full of surprises. But one thing you should know..." Charles felt the tension rise, sensing that they were about to share something important. Alessandro leaned forward slightly, his voice low and serious. "Mark... is adopted." Charles' eyes widened. He hadn't expected this revelation at all. "We've kept this from him all his life," Isabella added. "Not out of shame, of course, but out of love. We didn't want him to feel different, and we didn't think it was necessary to tell him yet."Alessandro gave a knowing glance toward Charles. "But something tells me he's already figured it out. He's smarter than he lets on." Charles sat there, absorbing everything. It was becoming clearer now. Mark's confidence, his hidden life, and the deep layers that made him who he was. His parents weren't cold or distant—they were simply protective. They had raised him in a world of wealth and status, but they also genuinely cared about his happiness, even if they didn't always show it openly. "Thank you for sharing this with me," Charles said quietly, his respect for Mark's family growing.Isabella smiled warmly. "We trust you, Charles. You're a good friend to him. And it seems that he's important to you, too." Charles nodded, feeling a deeper connection to Mark now. He had always seen glimpses of the complexities beneath Mark's surface, but now, he understood just how intricate his friend's life truly was. After a little while, Mark returned to the room, still his usual carefree self. Charles exchanged a glance with Alessandro and Isabella, who simply smiled knowingly. As they were about to leave, Mark turned to his parents with a grin. "By the way, I've known for years that I was adopted." Alessandro and Isabella looked shocked. "What!?!?!?" Mark laughed. "Come on, I'm not that clueless. I figured it out a long time ago. But it doesn't matter. I got dad's mind. As Adopted or not, I'm still your son." His parents stared at him for a moment before Alessandro broke into a rare smile. "You never fail to surprise us." As they got into the car to leave, Isabella turned to her husband. "He really is our son." ---

[interstellarspacecadett]

DINNER DATE

WARNING!

Do not read if you're not 18+ years old.

Contains strong language

Allusion to sex and bdsm

Control

Alcohol consumption

That day has come. I'm going to eat at the most exclusive restaurant in Gotham city. What an experience! Everyone is talking about this. At the moment, there's nothing more important than "The Experience." Harvey, my colleague and guy I'm seeing, has invited me to have dinner with him, I think this is the perfect time for him to ask me to be his girlfriend. We have known each other for quite a while now, and he likes me. He doesn't even hide his feelings. As for me, this can be a good way to go on with my life after what happened with Bruce. Still, it feels strange to have a partner who is not the one and only Prince of Gotham. He made his choice, we parted our ways, and I don't think there will ever be another story like the one Bruce and I share. As I get ready, I receive a message from Harvey

>> Looking forward to our date tonight :)

I smile, reading the message out loud.

He called our hanging out "date", this is definitely a step forward. I text him

>> don't be late ;)

He's always late, and has always a good excuse. To be fair, he is the most important figure in all Gotham that frightens criminals without wearing a mask. I admire him so much.

At 8 o'clock, I arrive at the restaurant, and to my surprise Harvey is already there, looking handsome and really elegant.

He greets me, kissing the back of my hand. I smiled shyly.

"Ready for the most exclusive experience of out lives?"

"Ready." I answer holding his arm.

We enter, and one waitress guides us to our table. The place is as magnificent as the tabloids describe it. It's luxurious, combining new and old styles. The music is great and the people there are all from the elite of Gotham. What a breathtaking atmosphere.

We sit and admire the interior, and Harvey still looks at me. I smile with wonder, and my eyes brighten up.

As I was admiring the place, my eyes lock with Bruce's.

God, what is he doing here? I ask myself trying to look away. Jesus Christ! His eyes are like magnets pulling mines towards his. My heart starts beating fast, and the palms of my hands start ge sweaty.

I feel agitated, a fish out of the tank. He's not alone. There's a tall blonde girl by his side, another one of his conquests.

He finally calls for me. I immediately paralyse as my temperature is rising.

"Bruce." I mumble, trying to look indifferent, but my voice sounds weak and frightened.

"How have you been?" He asks me.

"G-good." I say forcing a smile.

"T-this is-" He stops me and puts his hand forward to shake Harvey's.

"Harvey Dent. What an onor." They shake hand vigorously.

"I should be the one honoured. Wow, Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham, here." Harvey smiles sincerely. I didn't know he was a fan of Bruce.

"We should talk. We can try to put these two tables together." He says, looking at me.

"I don't think we can. This place is really strict with rules. I don't want to be kicked out." I say, trying to sound as polite as possible.

"You shouldn't worry about that. I own this place." Bruce says this with such a simplicity, like it is common for a man to own the most exclusive place in Gotham.

Bruce, with a gesture of a hand, calls for a waiter.

We soon are all together. Bruce is infront of me, next to his his blond bombshell. Harvey is next to me still processing the fact that he met Bruce.

"See, Mr Dent, I'm a fan of yours. Your work means a lot to Gotham. We need more unmasked people bringing justice to light and not a caped thug roaming the streets at night." He says, sipping his water. He looks at Harvey, studying his face, looking for microexpressions, to see if he's as honest as he wants to appear. I know that look very well.

"Well, Mr Wayne, if I should name someone that inspires me, I would lie if I didn'tsay Batman. He made me think that I could do it. He's a silent presence hidden in the shadows to make sure that Gotham is safe. I would give a million dollars to meet him and congratulate him." Says Harvey smiling.

"I mean, a masked man fighting in tights... that doesn't seem like the type of hero this city needs. This batman dude is not the type of justice we need."

I starte to come back to my senses. Not frightens anymore, not liking the scene Bruce is fabricating.

"Maybe you're scared of batman because you're hiding something." I remark, pouring champagne in my glass.

"Quite the contrary. I'm a public figure. Nothing about me for the public is private anymore.."

He says, sipping more water. He looks through me.

"Batman is doing much more than buying hotels and hanging out with prima ballerinas. You should learn from him and admit that without Batman, this city would have imploded a long time ago." I say irritated. I then proceed to drink all the champagne in my glass.

He seems amused knowing how his presence is driving me crazy.

Harvey and Bruce start talking again, while to hide my real emotions I keep on drinking.

How can he look so handsome?! If only he didn't have that cold manipulative attitude, maybe we would still be together.

The dinner goes on with Harvey and Bruce talking about politics and new laws, while the blonde girl and I look so miserable. Suddenly, Harvey's phone starts ringing. It's one of those calls he can't ignore. He excuses himself and goes talking at the balcony.

All the alcohol I drank makes me tipsy, and little by little, I start to feel very hot.

Bruce keeps looking at me, burning me with his blue eyes.

"You look so beautiful tonight." He says in a low dark tone.

"Not as beautiful as your friend." I say pouring water in my water glass, hoping to sober up.

"You beat her in every category. You're beyond your own understanding, or you wouldn't be saying stupid things like this." He says. I don't look at him. Not anymore. I'm afraid to fall back into one of his traps. It's always like this with Bruce.

Under the table, I feel one of his feet caressing my calve. I try to hide my feet under my chair, but he finds me there with no hesitation.

I smile, finding it cute and nostalgic.

But I'm on a date with Harvey, Bruce has nothing to do with it.

"Bruce, stop." I whisper.

"Is this a date? You and Dent?" He asks me concerned.

"Yes. Why do you care?"

"You're still wearing my ring. That's not a simple ring and you know it."

"What does this have to do with it?." I ask, irritated.

"It does. Since you belong to me and that ring is the undeniable proof that you know that what I'm saying is true." He explains calmly.

Maybe it the alcohol, maybe it's my anger, but I pull off my finger the ring and I give it back to him.

"Here, it's your ring, after all. Keep it. Give it to another girl." I say.

Bruce doesn't seem amused at all. He's frowning, and his fist is firmly closed, turning his hand red.

"We're done." I say grinning, winning once.

He smiles. It confuses me, what the fuck is he smiling for?.

He leans over, and he gestures to me to do the same. I do it, hoping he admits his defeat once for all.

"Baby, come back to me." He says with a sensual tone. I have goosebumps everywhere and I bite my lower lip.

"I miss you, baby. I miss fucking you, raw, on every surface, balls deep inside that tight pussy of yours for hours and hours." Oh, God what a sweet torture! He looks at me straight in the eyes and I can see his eyes burning with desire.

He doesn't touch me, if he would he'd probably burn himself because I'm getting hotter and hotter.

"Tonight, be mine. I wanna give it to you just one more time, baby." I crush my legs. He's so domeering and has this power on me that I can't explain. He's got me on the palm of his hand, and he can do whatever he wants with me.

"Sorry for taking a while. I'm really sorry, but there's a matter I have to deal with." Harvey starts go get ready to leave.

Bruce gets up and he's ready to get rid of him. Maybe he's the mastermind behind all of this.

I hug Harvey, then he shakes Bruce's hand, and leaves. He's gone, disappeared.

The blond girl says something in Russian, and in no time, she's gone as well.

They left me alone with Bruce, and not just any Bruce, but a horny Bruce who wants to devour me.

His eyes are back on me. He's more than amused.

"Where were we?" He asks.

"Would you like something sweet to eat?" Asks the waitress. I get thrown back to reality.

"I'll take this soufflé au chocolat." Says Bruce keeping his eyes on me.

"Honey, is there something appetising that you'd like to eat?" He asks. He's such a pervert. He doesn't refer to any dessert but him.

"N-no, I'm fine." The waitress goes away taking all the plates with her.

"Harvey is not the man for you. You deserve me, a man who can take care of you, who can put the world under your feet. Someone who can make you cum every time you need it."

"I don't deserve you, Bruce. You're not the man for me. You only think about power and dominance, but never about love. Love is all I need. You can't give me that. Not a genuine one, at least." I say, playing with my glass.

"We can try, again. To see how it goes." He look hopeful.

"I don't wanna try. Not with you anymore." I say, feeling all the sadness of my words.

"You sound scared." He affirms putting one finger on his lower lip to caress it.

"I am. I don't want you here. Tonight was just for me and Harvey. He wanted to ask me to be his girlfriend, and you just slided in like a snake to kill a romantic night."

"The night is not over. We can have a romantic date, you and I, here."

"I don't think that's a good idea. We didn't talk for months, you didn't even try to reach me. You closed all your doors, and soon, there wasn't enough space, even for a friendship. There was nothing. And whatever this is, quit it. Stop it." I say, looking at him with begging eyes.

"There wasn't a minute where you weren't in my thoughts. You were the only one in my head. I dream of you almost every night."

"What do I do in your dreams?"

"You tell me you love me, then we have sex, and you end up pregnant with my baby. We're happy, the three of us."

"You always say have sex and never make love. This speaks volumes about how you see me as a person, Bruce. You have sex with someone you hook up with, not someone you love and care for."

"It's a rough session. In bdsm there's no space for lovemaking. And as far as I remember, you like being tight up and spanked. Fucked right until you're a fountain cumming all over my expensive bed sheets."

"Okay, I got it. There's no need to be THIS specific." I say, rolling my eyes.

He laughs. God, I missed his laugh. It's so contagious that I end up smiling.

"I'll make love to you tonight if you let me."

"Bruce, it's better if we don't. We should move on. And I've found the right person to be happy with."

"We can talk about this tomorrow morning over breakfast. I'm sure it'll be a nice conversation I'd love to engage myself in."

The waitress interrupts us, bringing Bruce's order to the table.

"You won't give up, uh?" I ask, taking his plate with the soufflé.

I take a bite of it. It's delicate and delicious.

He passes his tongue on lis lower lip, looking at me eating the dessert.

"No, never. Can I have my soufflé back. I can order a new one for you."

"Order it for yourself. Yours is sooo good."I say, provoking him. I eat sensually moaning at every bite.

"Don't torture me." He says, leaning back on his chair.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just enjoying this delicious soufflé. Do you want a bite?" I say as innocent as possible.

He says yes with his head. We both lean closer to each other, like to magnets. I bring my spoon with on the dessert, and as he was to bite it, I pull my spoon back, eating the soufflé au chocolat.

He smiles.

"Sweetie, you gotta be faster than that. Let's try again." He tries to move fast to eat it, but I'm faster, and soon enough, I'm enjoying another bite.

"One last time." He says. His eyes were shining.

I do the same movement, and he plays his part perfectly, but instead of eating the dessert, he kisses me. Just one small peck to leave me breathless.

God his lips are so good. I missed them.

"This is better." He says pleased.

I smile.

"I want more. All of you."

He's going to be the death of me.

"I have a room. The view from up there is breathtaking. Stay with me tonight."

"I'll give you an answer after finishing MY soufflé." I say, starting to provoke him again by moaning and exaggerating my eating process. He enjoys himself, he's amused, and keeps his blue eyes on me. I put my front zip down to reveal a little bit of skin, well actually a good part of my breast.He moves his eyes, following my hand as I do so. He bites his lower lip, and then he licks it.

"Bruce, what do you think of my dress. Do you like it?" I ask, passing my hands through my hair.

"I adore it." He says, keeping his eyes on my breast.

"Do you like my new haircut?" I ask while bouncing a little bit on the chair.

"I love it." As he was saying so I started to put my slip down

"And what about my perfume?" I extend my folded hand. waiting for him to take my panties and sniff them.

"It's divine." He says after sniffing his fist.

"Do you want a taste?"

"Yes, baby."

I slide my index inside my wet cave, moaning to the pleasure.

I bring it to his mouth and he licks it.

"Fucking good." He says passing his tongue on it once more.

"I just hope your bed is comfortable."

"The best in the world."

"Glad to hear that. You're gonna sleep tight in it, all alone." I say getting up.

Bruce tilts his head, not understanding what I'm doing, but I'm ready to leave.

He gets up, trying to convince me to stay.

"I thought we were playing. We were having fun, why are you leaving?"

"You don't play with people's feelings, Bruce. You did me wrong, and I can't forget that. Harvey will call me sooner or later."

"Can I at least take you home?" He asks. It's a wrong idea. We can not be left alone together, I could give in and lose the power that I have on him.

"I can help you put your panties back on." He proposes smirking with his playboy attitude.

"You can keep them, I have plenty at home, place where I'll drive myself to. Goodbye, Bruce." I say before walking fast to the exit.

These games between us need to stop, I can't keep going on like this. We can't be together, I have Harvey who will take care of me.

As soon as I get in my car, I start to cry. Too many emotions I can't comprehend and accept. Bruce and I share a lot of history. My heart and body hurt, all of me. I start to tremble, feeling trapped between what's right ( moving on with Harvey) and what's wrong (go back to Bruce and try again to work things out).

I clean my face with a tissue, and I drive back home, hoping just to sleep and find peace.

[silentangel00]

The Batman

(Reader Insert)

Chapter 5: Answer the Call

Chapter 4: https://www.tumblr.com/silentangel00/732845264415719424/the-batman

Bruce approaches City Hall where the funeral is being held for the late mayor. He gazes at the street that's packed with mourners, makeshift memorials, and Riddler-styled protesters holding up signs. Pulling up in front of City Hall Bruce exits his car as a Valet opens his door. He is immediately met with Paparazzi shouting his name and cameras flashing. He tries to give them a strained smile but immediately turns and ignores them as he reaches for his wallet to pay the valet. A familiar voice catches his attention and he turns to see the Penguin opening a car door.

"We're good, Mr Falcone." Bruce turns upon hearing Falcone's name and watches as he exits his car. His attention is distracted briefly as the valet calls for him and he hands him a wad of cash and turns to move through the thick crowd, bottle-necking at the entrance of City Hall, not taking his eyes off of Falcone. He starts to get closer before a hand slaps into his chest stopping him.

"Hey! Give us a wide berth here would'ya, slick" Penguin warns as he grabs onto him. The commotion catches Falcone's attention and he turns to eye Bruce.

"Hey, watch it, fellas. You got the Prince of the city there." Penguin and the guards loosen their grip and Falcone steps closer to Bruce. "Some event huh? Brought out the one guy in the city more reclusive than me." He smiles as Bruce glares with an edge, a sense of history between them.

"I thought you never leave the Shoreline. Aren't you afraid someone'll take a shot at you?" It was difficult for Bruce to bite back his tone with the mobster.

"Why? Cause your father ain't around?" Falcone cockily retorts "Oz, you know Bruce Wayne?" The penguin looks at him in surprise.

"Wow... is that right?"

"His father saved my life. I got shot in the chest, right here. Couldn't go to no hospital, so we showed up on his doorstep. He took me in, and operated right on his dining room table, kid here saw the whole thing up on the stairs lookin down. I remember your face. You don't think that meant somethin he did that?"

"Means he took the Hippocratic Oath."

"Hippocratic Oath... that's good ..." Falcone says in clear amusement at the answer.

"Excuse me," Bruce says as he abruptly moves on, leaving as Falcone laughs at him. Bruce scans the crowd as he walks inside. He clocks rifled officers among spectators above, and cops stopping a suspicious guy in front of him. Announcements over the speaker ring out in the large space of people

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to today's memorial for our beloved mayor, Don Mitchell, Jr. Our program will begin shortly. As a reminder, the family asks that those wishing to honor the mayor's memory consider a donation to the cause most dear to his heart, the Gotham RenewalFund, our city's safety net."

"What good's a safety net doesn't catch anybody?" Bruce turns to the owner of the eerie voice. A man in a hooded work jacket glares with bitter angry eyes as the VIPs pass. "Didn't help my daughter when she needed it -- I can tell you that. Guy was just another rich scumsucker. He got what he deserved." The man then looks up at Bruce "Know what I mean?" Bruce studies his face as he nods in silence. The man's expression changes as he tries to place Bruce "Hey, don't i know you?" The man is cut off as someone calls Bruce's name.

"Bruce Wayne! Why haven't you called me back?" Bruce is startled as he turns to see Bella Real coming towards him.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm Bella Real -- I'm running for mayor -- I wouldn't be bothering you here, but your people keep telling me you're "unavailable". Will you walk with me?"

Bruce starts to walk with her as he turns back to the angry man before; He glares and turns to disappear into the crowd. Bruce wasn't paying much attention to what she was saying as he turned back toward her but immediately his attention was caught again. There you were talking to a couple of people off to the side. He stops and stares still not listening to Bella as she bluntly urges him to do more for the city. You look around curiously til your gaze lands on him and you do a sudden double-take as you both lock eyes. You turn to excuse yourself from the conversation and walk over to Bruce and Bella, almost cautiously as if you weren't sure if he was actually Bruce or not. It's been so long and he looks so different you don't want to embarrass yourself by calling a complete stranger the wrong name.

"Y/N! So good to see you again." Bella chimes at your approach.

"You as well, though I wish it was under better circumstances of course." You say as your attention flicks back and forth between her and studying Bruce's face. Bella immediately wipes her smile from her face taking on a gloomy demeanor.

"Of course, of course... Are we still on for lunch next week?"

"Yes ma'am!" You give a small smile.

"I'm going to go pay my respects." Bella turns to Bruce "Will you wait for me? I want to continue this." She then walks off to the front where the Mayor's wife and son are sitting.

"...Bruce," You say giving the same smile that makes his mind turn static.

"Y/N?" He almost forgot that he has to pretend that he didn't know you were back in Gotham. You chuckle nervously as you subtly look him up and down. He has a darkness about his eyes, seems like he hasn't slept in days or weeks. A slight stubble and a seemingly natural look of being miserable.

"Wow... you look-" Awful "Grown-up! ...It's been a while hasn't it?"

"Yeah, it has... When did you get back?"

"Just a few months ago. I tried reaching out to you I promise--- but it seems you changed your number so I stopped leaving messages." Bruce gave you an odd look then looked away.

"It hasn't changed..." He didn't want to lie to you, even though telling you that he just hasn't bothered to check his messages made him feel guilty, but he didn't want to shut you out. Not anymore... "I have a lot of messages to get through so it's nothing personal. I'm just--busy"

"Oh... no I understand!" Even though you smiled at him he could tell he hurt you.

"I could give you Alfred's number, I'm sure he'd love to hear from you." Your face brightened at the offer.

"Oh yes please!" You hand Bruce your phone for him to type in Alfred's number.

"What brings you to Gotham?" He was genuinely curious, he couldn't conversate with you like this as Batman. This was his only chance, even if there was awkward tension between you two with how things were left off ten years ago. You let out an exasperated sigh at the question as you turned and started slowly walking toward the front with Bruce.

"I'm taking over the Gotham branch of the family business" You rolled your eyes. "I'm also volunteering for the GCPD"

"Yeah? How's that going?"

"Well ya know with everything going on it's been kinda crazy for my first case. Haven't slept in almost 24 hours." You say with a humorless chuckle, Bruce looks at you incredulously.

"Well even with lack of rest you look..." Beautiful "Fine." He says as he awkwardly hands you back your phone, your hands brushing for just a second as you return your phone to your coat pocket.

"Ha, thanks... can't exactly say I feel fine though." Bruce stops to look at you noticing the weariness in your voice slip through. You avoid eye contact though looking toward the front at the late Mayors son. " I was there that night--- helped consult on the crime scene. His little boy still has the same look on his face that he did that night..." You say sullenly. Bruce watches along with you as the mayor's son turns around to look at the crowd, his eyes landing on you and Bruce. Bruce looks away to you about to say something when a familiar voice catches his attention.

"Excuse me, chief. Can I talk to you?" Bruce slowly turns to see Gordon behind them talking to the Chief of Police, Chief Bock, in a hushed voice. "Gil Colson is missing... He hasn't been heard from since last night."

"Christ, not again." Chief Bock says exasperated.

"I'm going to go ahead and pay my respects, I'll catch up with you later Bruce." You say walking away before Bruce can turn to say anything else, so he just nods to your retreating form. He bites down the disappointment of his conversation with you being cut short, he continues to listen to the conversation between Jim and Chief Bock.

"You got people looking for him, Jim?"

"Sent a couple guys to his house. Nothing."

"What'd his wife say?"

"She hadn't heard from him."

Suddenly they're cut off by the sounds of distant screams; an awful groaning engine whines from somewhere outside -- then -- sickening thuds. Bruce's eyes immediately flit up in alarm as he turns back to face the entrance, he takes in his surroundings as people start to stand from their seats upon hearing the same sounds. You turn your attention to the back as well, slowly you walk back towards the front opening of the aisle -- curiosity and fear set in as you hear the alarming noises. Bruce takes a quick glance back at you but then follows where your attention is brought up to the second story landing where spectators panic as they turn, seeing something through the windows; all except a silhouetted figure gazing eerily down in Bruce's direction... seemingly waiting for something as the sounds from outside get louder. Bruce shifted on his feet, his gut feeling leading his attention to land sharply right back at the entrance where the doors explode in a blizzard of glass and concrete.

As the D.A.'s SUV rips through the doors and crowd, flowers picked up in the grill of the car, pandemonium ensues as the crowd scatters in panicked screams; some people are tossed into the air. You stumble back in surprise and are quickly knocked off your feet by someone in complete panic. The vehicle slams past guardrails and into the seated area. Bruce spins to see you only a few feet away, disoriented as you get back up on your feet again. He breaks into a sprint and hurls himself at you tackling you out of the SUV's path as it roars past, narrowly missing you as it launches seats over your heads. The car finally crashes into the central staircase, buckling upward with the engine still grinding till it stops...

A surreal moment of quiet then screams, tears, and panic. Bruce lifts his head off of yours as he holds the back of your head and quickly analyzes your face, making sure you're alright. He looks up to the second floor to discover the mysterious figure from before is gone -- Bruce rises with you still in his arms. He's holding tightly onto your elbows to keep you stable as you sway from the sudden rush of adrenaline going to your head.

"Are you ok?" You ask as you look up at him, but his attention is turned towards the SUV -- it's covered in a scrawled crossword puzzle pattern with the endlessly repeating message ‘D.A. -- D.O.A?’

Gordon and a bunch of cops surround the SUV with their guns raised screaming for whoever was inside the car to get out with their hands up. Bruce and you watch with bated breath as the driver door slowly opens all the way, a figure staggering out, hands raised, terrified...

"Christ, it's Colson." Gordon says in shock as he observes the D.A. with a bloody face and tape over his mouth with the words ‘NO MORE LIES’. A clamp is around his neck with lights rapidly flashing on it. A cop notices, horrified, and screams "There's a bomb around his neck!!" People start to scream and duck at this warning. Bruce pulls you in closer without breaking his stare away from the D.A. as a ringing goes off causing everyone to freak out and shield themselves further. The crowd looks up confused as Colson sheepishly lifts his hand and points to a cell phone taped to his palm. As it continues to ring Gordon turns, calling into the room of terrified people.

"Let's clear this place out! Now!"

Police start ushering people out but Bruce hesitates, chilled as he notices a greeting card taped to Colson's chest.

"Bruce we need to go." You say as you try to back out of his grasp to retreat with the crowd, but instead, his grip on your arms tightens. You look up at him curiously as you notice the intensity of his stare on the D.A. You reach up your hand and lightly tap his chest, "Bruce?" you call out softly. This finally gets his attention as he turns to you. "Let's go, yeah?" He silently nods and wraps an arm around your shoulder as he protectively escorts you out, glancing one last time over his shoulder at the greeting card taped to the D.A. -- addressed: "To The Batman."

As Bruce and you reach outside of the building he puts his hands on your shoulders and leans in to make sure you hear him over the commotion. "I've gotta go. Stay safe, ok?"

"Of course, you too." You watch as he walks away, and you turn in the opposite direction to go and find Gordon. Once Bruce reaches his car he leans into the trunk seizing an expensive leather duffle and slams the trunk closed. He disappears into the crowd as a flood of emergency vehicles screech onto the scene.

A short time later the outside of Gotham City Hall is jammed with police, SWAT, ATF, K9 units, and News crews. Gordon and you stand outside a Crisis Command Trailer where techs set up monitors as the leads argue.

"Unbelievable..." Gordon whispers out incredulously.

"Are they seriously fightin' over jurisdiction when that poor bastard is gonna blow any minute?" You say equally as appalled. Only a short while later the police send in a small whirring police robot. It rolls toward Colson as he sits alone, the cell phone in his hand echoing as it keeps ringing. Gil lifts his head as the robot stops before him, he stares oddly at it as a camera slowly extends towards his head.

"We got a picture!" One of the Techs yells out. Everyone suddenly quiets as they crowd around to see Colson just staring sadly into the robot camera. His expression changes when he suddenly turns, struck -- shock begins to fill his eyes.

"What's he lookin at?" Chief Bock questions. Colson sits there frozen as Batman emerges from the shadows, moving slowly across the floor toward him. Chief Bock's eyes widen as Batman appears on the robot's cameras, "Are you kiddin me?! What the hells he doin'?! ... Gordon!!!"

Gordon presses closer along with you to see Batman approaching Gil.

"Your guy's gonna get himself killed in there!"

Your jaw slightly drops as you watch with growing concern. Batman stops, towering over Gil, and reaches out to peel the tape off his mouth. Colson takes a deep breath "Please, he made me do it! I'm so sorry! ... He told me if I didn't do exactly what he said, he'd kill me. I'm so sorry!"

"Looks like a combination lock," Batman says as he studies the contraption around Colson's neck.

"Can't we just cut it off?" Colson whimpers out.

"Not if you want to keep your head." Batman then rips the card off of Gil's chest. On the cover is a cartoon of a lady holding a comically large old phone with the words 'In these trying times, Never forget...' Batman opens it, 'I'm just a phone call away.' -- under that in angry scrawl is the word 'ANSWER'. Gil lifts the ringing phone expectantly as Batman reaches to press the answer button. The phone's screen displays a live split-screen image of the riddler lurking out of frame on one side, and Batman on the other. Riddler stares for a beat before his chilling voice comes calmly through the changer.

"You came..."

"Who are you?"

"Me? I'm nobody... I'm just an instrument here to unmask the truth about this cesspool we call a city."

"Unmask?"

"Yes... let's do it together ok? I've been trying to reach you... You're part of this too"

"How am I a part of this?"

" You'll see..." Riddler says as he shifts to stand fully within frame. A police officer calls out to Chief Bock to come take a look at another monitor they have set up. GC1 news channel is running the feed from the Riddler's phone, broadcasting live through social media.

"Say hello to my followers, we're live! -- They're here to watch our little trial. At the moment, the man across from you, Mr Colson, is dead!"

Colson starts to panic upon hearing this, "Jesus, can we get somebody out here?! This psycho's gonna kill me!"

"SHUT UP!!" Riddler rises from his chair and presses in closer to the phone camera in anger as he screams with a scarily distorted voice " You deserve to be dead after what you did! You hear me?!!" The terrifying outburst makes Gil fall silent -- Riddler starts to eerily chuckle. " I'm giving you a chance -- No one ever gave me a chance." The Riddler has returned to an oddly calm demeanor as he continues, "Now... ever since I was a child, I've always loved puzzles... for me, they're a retreat from the horrors of our world. Maybe they can bring some comfort to you too, Mr Colson."

Colson turns the phone away from Batman and towards himself to face Riddler through the screen, "You want me to do puzzles?"

"Yes! Three riddles in two minutes! You give me the answers, and I'll give you the code for the lock! Do you understand?"

"Yeah, ok-" Gil rises from his seat and starts to pace " So you just want me to-" Before he can finish his question Gil shrieks as the countdown appears on his collar for two minutes and the Riddler starts without warning.

"Riddle number one! It can be cruel, poetic, or blind but when it's denied, it's violence you may find."

"Wait! Can you repeat that? I didn't -- I didn't -- Cruel... poetic?"

"Justice," Batman chimes.

"Huh?" Gil spins to look at Batman to panicked to think straight.

"The answers Justice."

Gil looks at the phone, "Justice?"

"Yes! Justice! And you were supposed to be an arm of justice in this city, along with the late mayor and police commissioner, were you not, Mr Colson?"

"Of course, of course, of course--"

"Riddle number two!" Riddler continues as you still watch on the screen connected to the police robot, biting your nails in anxiousness. " If you are justice, please do not lie. What is the price for your blind eye?"

Gil shakes his head in confusion "Price?"

"Bribes." You say out loud in frustration. Batman turns to the robot slightly as Colson struggles to keep his breath, hyperventilating as he repeats what you say to the Riddler.

"Oh God -- Bribes?"

Your brows furrow in confusion and you look to Gordon as you whisper " Can they hear me through that thing?" Gordon stiffly looks at you and nods as heat rises to your ears in embarrassment.

"He's asking how much it costs for you to turn your back." Batman corrects. Colson cries in exasperation.

"You gotta be kidding me!"

"Fifty-eight seconds!" Riddler interjects.

"How much?" Batman calmly pushes for the answer.

"Nothing!" Colson shakes his head in denial but Batman knows better.

"How much?!" He raises his voice pushing harder for Colson to answer. There's no time to waste.

"Ten grand!" Colson finally breaks. " Ten G's a month! I get a monthly payment just not to prosecute certain cases."

"What cases?"

"He didn't ask me that! Come on!" Colson holds up the phone to answer Riddler " Ten grand! That's my answer, it's ten grand!"

Riddler is obviously having a fun time of this as he giggles, " Okay, okay! Don't lose your head, Mr. Colson! Just one more to go before your time runs out. Last riddle!" He sings out, " Since your justice is so select, please tell us which vermin you're paid to protect..."

"Which vermin?"

"The Rat," Batman answers immediately knowing what this means, " The informant you all protect from the Salvatore Maroni case."

"How do you know about that?" Gil whispers out in shock.

"I'm trying to help you, what's his name?"

"Twenty seconds!" Riddler chimes excitedly.

Gil shakes his head, "No."

Batman steps closer urgently, grabbing Colson, "He's gonna kill you."

"I'm a dead man either way. You're talking to a dead man, okay?! If I go out this way it's just me, but if I give over that name, I have family, people I love -- He'll kill them too!"

"Who will?!"

"People are watching..." Colson whispers out.

"What people?!" Batman shakes him, trying to get something, anything, out of Colson.

"It's so much bigger than you could imagine. It's the whole system!"

Riddler starts to count down from five.

Colson cries-- "FOUR"

"Oh, God, have mercy on me.." "THREE"

Batman looks down in alarm as the timer ticks to zero hearing the Riddler sing out " Goooooodbye!"

Batman turns, shielding his face, as a blast erupts from the bomb around Colson's neck. Propelling Batman back as he slams to the ground, sliding into chairs, as his suit is in flames. Spectators from outside all erupt into rising voices of concern. Your hand slaps to your mouth, muffling a cry of surprise. High-pitched ringing fills Batman's ears as he lies on the floor in a daze. He struggles to open his eyes but can make out the forms of Gordon and you rushing toward him; followed by other cops with their guns drawn. His vision blurs as distorted yelling from the cops all around him fades and he blacks out.

Chapter6: https://www.tumblr.com/silentangel00/738078418748489728/the-batman

[blackjackkent]

Zevlor and the two Flaming Fist always wreck absolute face (no pun intended) in this fight against the mind flayers. It's a joy to watch Zevlor set everyone on fire with Searing Smite.

Annoyingly, I had to do the fight a couple times because one little intellect devourer kept showing up late to the fight and interrupting our conversation with Zevlor afterwards. XD

"Hells. I didn't think I was going to make it."

Zevlor looks terribly drained and considerably more battered than Rakha last saw him. He manages a slight smile as he looks past her at Wyll, but it seems to take most of the energy he has left.

"The Blade of Frontiers," he murmurs. "The savior I needed, if not the one I deserved."

(A/N: LOL. Further proof that Wyll is Faerun Batman.)

Wyll smiles slightly in return, but doesn't say anything. His eyes are troubled and he watches Zevlor with a certain amount of caution.

Rakha can guess why - and it's clear that Zevlor knows it too.

"I... owe you an explanation," he says quietly. "Much more than that. But first... please..." He swallows. "The others. The ambush... tell me they survived?"

Rakha raises and lowers one shoulder in a half-shrug. She could give him some placating answer, but why? He knows his failure; he would not believe her anyway.

"Some," she says flatly. "Not all. Because of you."(*) Her tone isn't really accusatory so much as simply factual - but Zevlor flinches from it all the same.

"Somehow, I suspect it's worse than you imagine," he mutters. "Likely you heard that I broke, or froze, or some other lie kinder than the truth." There's a pause, in which he visibly squares his shoulders, a soldier providing a report that tastes bitter in his mouth.

"We were ambushed by cultists, yes," he says. "And then I heard... Her. Their false god, whispering promises in my mind..." His gaze goes distant over Rakha's shoulder. "I would be a paladin again - with a god's purpose, a god's power. Everything I needed to protect my people. And all the while, the cult tortured them. They fought, and ran, and died around me while I imagined myself their savior. By the time I regained my senses... it was too late. I did not just surrender to the Absolute. For a moment... I welcomed it."

Rakha listens in silence. Her head twinges sharply. She remembers the strange joy that filled her in the presence of that orb in the laboratory - the influence of the Absolute, overwhelming, saturating. She remembers how ready she was, in that brief moment, to surrender to its influence in exchange for a sense of peace...

And before that, she remembers the terrible night the beast almost ripped out Wyll's throat, while she watched from behind her eyes and could do nothing to stop it. In that moment, everything was rage and violence and everything that she was... was lost.

For a moment... I welcomed it.

She knows the same failings Zevlor speaks of. Mental surrender. Loss of control. And, just as she did with Madeline in the ritual circle out in the dark, she wants to lash out at him, and in doing so, lash out at herself.

But Wyll stopped her, with Madeline. Is this justice? he asked her. Is there purpose?

Zevlor was not in control of himself at the ambush. She was not in control of herself that night in camp. Wyll... Wyll has not turned away from her for it...

"It sounds like you were enthralled," she mutters haltingly. "It's... not your fault."

It's not your fault.

She is sure she can sense Zevlor's response as clearly as she hears it in her own mind. Then whose is it?

"It would be nice to think so," he says, with the same flatness to his voice as to her own. "But whatever these monsters twist us into... I believe it begins in us."

It is Rakha's turn to flinch, to look away. He cannot know how those words cut her to the heart. He doesn't mean the beast, of course, only the tadpoles... but they are both flavors of the same poison.

Maybe he's right, and there is no distinction between her and the things in her head after all.

"I won't make excuses," Zevlor goes on, too caught up in his own turmoil to notice hers. "I can't make amends. But I know something of what you came to do. I want to help, if you'll let me. Ketheric is below. He thinks you're no longer a menace. Descend and show him how wrong he is. If there are any more survivors to be found, I'll find them - and lead them out of this place."

Rakha shrugs. She doesn't care what he does. She has far too many other things occupying her mind. "Fine," she mutters. "Good luck, Zevlor."

"And you, my friend," Zevlor says gravely. "And pathetic, inadequate as it is... thank you."

-----

He turns and walks away, deeper into the flesh-lined corridor beyond. Rakha watches him go and then straightens her gloves with a sudden, forceful jerk.

Wyll is watching her. Perhaps he has some inkling of what is going on in her mind, because he puts a hand on her arm and starts to speak. "Rakha--"

She jerks her arm away from him. "He said Ketheric is still further below," she says curtly. "Keep moving."

------

(*) Slight artistic license here to truncate Rakha's line to be more her speaking style. The full line is: "Some. Others ended up in a cell in Moonrise. That's on you." Honestly the oddest thing about the line options here is all of them seem to indicate that more people survived than actually did. There's no option, for instance, to mention that all the kids except Mol are gone.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

You're Just Like Quicksand

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Beyond

Summary: Jason Todd is ready to go into semi-retirement after fifteen years working with troubled youth, but one case in particular forces him to confront the sins of his youth and painful memories from his past.

Chapters: 7/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Terry McGinnis, Warren McGinnis, Mary McGinnis, Matt McGinnis, Bruce Wayne, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Retired Jason Todd, Multiple POV, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, Angst, Mourning Jason Todd

Chapter Seven: Sweetpea (Jason Todd's POV)

I cleared my throat, sitting in the car across the street from the house. My hands shook, and I jumped as I noticed a little hand waving from the upstairs window. I got out of the car, dreading what was to come. I would’ve found an excuse to stay away if it wasn’t an emergency. Terry had a group project at school, so it was just me. I didn’t have work. I had no excuse. Not that I wanted one. I wanted to be there, but my nerves wouldn’t let me. I put one foot in front of the other, watching the door get closer, and then I heard my knuckles rapping at the front door. No one answered, so I used my key. “Avery-Marie? It’s Grandpa!” I shouted. She ran downstairs in a teal leotard and a pair of nylon shirts. The swishing noise made me laugh.

“Ganma!” Avery-Marie shouted as she jumped into my arms. Her face and hair were dirty. I kissed her cheek as I ventured forward into the cluttered living room. “Ganma, I miss you.”

“And I missed you… Where’s your mommy?” I asked. Avery-Marie shook her head, hiding her face in my shoulder. Her thick curls were weighed down by oil, dirt, and something that smelled like baby lotion. “Avery-Marie… Where is your mommy?”

“Mommy sick,” Paloma whispered.

“Stay here. I’ll be back for you, okay?” I whispered. My heart dropped into my stomach as I went upstairs. I was around Avery-Marie’s age when my mom got sick. I checked Avery-Marie’s room first. I knew her mom wouldn’t be there. I looked around at the piles of unfolded blankets and dirty laundry. Avery-Marie probably hadn’t been bathed in days. I stretched my hand, touching a framed drawing of her father, mother, and me. Beside her drawing was an oil painting Avery did for her nursery.

“Abigail! Abigail, it’s your father-in-law!” I called. I didn’t hear an answer. I wanted to be angry with her, but she was my son’s wife. Abigail was a good kid... Just troubled.

I sighed, raking a hand through my hair as I went to Avery and Abigail’s bedroom. I knocked first. “Abby, it’s Dad,” I announced. Nothing. “Abigail… I’m not mad. I just—. I wanna know why you didn’t ask for my help. I wanna know why you won’t answer the door…” I opened the door, and Abigail sat on the corner of the bed. She slumped over, her arms hanging loosely, fingers near her ankles. I cursed under my breath as I reached into my inner jacket pocket. I sat her up and gave her the nasal spray for her overdose. “Breathe… Come on, don’t let me be too late.”

Abigail gasped and wrapped her arms around me as she sobbed. “I can’t—. Why didn’t you—?”

“Hush… I gotta call 9-1-1. I’m gonna take Avie until you get better—.”

“You can’t even look at her,” Abigail replied. I rubbed her back.

“I looked at her when I came in. She’s got a nice ‘ol loosey goosey tooth in the front of her mouth,” I replied, “How much does the tooth fairy give for those things, accounting for inflation and tooth quality?”

She couldn’t laugh. Withdrawal had its claws in her, and I was shocked she could hear half of what I said. I talked to the paramedics, asking that they be discreet for my granddaughter’s sake. I left Abigail and tucked Avery-Marie away in the kitchen with a banana split.

“Abby, it’s gonna be alright… You know the number,” I whispered as I kissed her forehead. She held onto my wrist until they took her away.

They left me with the task of explaining things to Avery-Marie. “Hey, Sweetpea,” I whispered as I grabbed her from the kitchen. “Mommy’s going to the doctor to get better, so you’re gonna keep me company for a little bit.”

Avery-Marie ate her bowl of ice cream. “A long time?” Avery-Marie asked. She looked at me with her father’s big brown eyes. Sweet and uncertain. Trusting but afraid..

“A long time for you, yeah… But Grandpa’s house is fun. We’ll have yummy meals, you can go to ballet, and I’ll read to you at night. Would you like that?” I questioned as I sat beside her.

Avery-Marie smiled. “Ganma, I live in your house?” she questioned.

“Yeah… You’ll live in my house,” I replied, “Finish your ice cream and meet me upstairs.”

*

It took a half hour to get Avery-Marie cleaned up. She seemed undisturbed by her mother’s absence. The whole experience reminded me of myself with my mother, Catherine. I bounced her on my knee while I kneaded dough at the table. I used to do the same with Andrew when he was small. A special dessert always made the kids smile. The silence didn’t bother her either. “Want something to drink, Sweetpea?” I questioned.

“Nope,” Avery-Marie answered, “What’s Ganma doing?”

“I’m glad you asked! I’m making strawberry danishes,” I replied, “Do you want me to make them in any shapes?” Avery-Marie’s face lit up.

“Heart!” Avery-Marie exclaimed. I kissed her cheek.

My phone rang before I could reach across the table for the cookie cutters. “Hello,” I answered.

“Jason, I know you’re taking a personal day, but I can’t find Terry,” Warren explained.

“Okay… Yeah, um—. Yeah. Stay on the phone,” I replied as I put the dough in a bowl and covered it. I carried Avery on my hip while I switched over to my earpiece. “Warren? Are you there?”

“I am… I’m so sorry to bother you—.”

The anxiety in my head and stomach reminded me of the intensity that I felt worse than being on a mission back in my prime. “It’s okay. My personal day was short notice… Um—. Sorry, when was he supposed to be home?” I asked. I had to pull myself together for Avery-Marie and Warren’s sake. Sweating and panicking wouldn’t help anyone. I had to find Terry before he could get into trouble. Not that I thought he was looking for it. I buckled Avery-Marie into her car seat and put her headphones over her ears. They were bright blue and had some slime-themed cartoon characters on them. She clicked her heels together, letting her shoes light up, and I smiled. At least she was okay despite the shitty start to our morning. I forgot how much I missed her. I inhaled and blew out all my anxieties.

Warren explained that he planned on picking Terry up from school after finishing working on the group project with his classmates. After he arrived at the school, one of the kids explained that a gang of kids in pumpkin masks chased Terry south of the library. That was all I needed to find him. South of the library was an abandoned overpass. Crossbones territory. They were a cult-slash-gang devoted to Scarecrow. I knew some of the kids in the gang. A lot of them were on drugs. Huffing fear toxin whenever they could get their hands on it. They were worse than the Jokerz, because those kids could be scared straight enough to be tolerated. Terry belonged to a small gang before he was released, and it wouldn’t be easy for him to avoid the attention of the other gangs. They’d see him as easy prey now that he’d separated from his old gang. I had every reason to believe his life was in danger, but I wouldn’t let Warren know that. Not until I knew for sure.

[dairy-farmer]

Dick being so in denial over being in love with Tim. He's overprotective of him, holds his waist like a lover but shrugs when someone points it out. "It's always been like this." A bit weird, sure, but it's their thing? He rests his hands around Timmy's waist and kisses the back of his neck the way a husband would do his wife and rests his chin on top of Tim's head. It's a normal sight around Wayne Manor-- and Tim just melts in Dick's arms anyway, sighing over the comforting warmth.

Dick glares at any possible lover Tim brings over. A bitter taste on his tongue all the time-- "nobody's good enough for my little brother" Dick would mope to Jason or Babs every time Tim's dating someone or interested in someone.

They'd just raise a brow. "You don't care about who Damian dates?" They'd tell Dick. Dick would stutter each time, "Damian's different, he can--" a different excuse and reason every conversation.

Dick also mopes around every time Tim's not around. If he's in san fran with his team? Dick would suddenly have so much trouble working on a case, he *needs* to see Timmy. Bruce would raise a brow each time, tell him he could always come to him if he's having so much trouble and Dick would roll his eyes.

"The case is just a side thing B, I can also check if he's doing well or if he needs anything--" Dick goes on, rambling about everything Tim might need, as if he knew Tim like he knew the back of his hand. He knows every safehouse, every apartment, every corner Tim hides in. Dick knows when Tim isn't around the manor, Dick knows Tim's schedule. A tiny bit of stalking-- but it's because he's worried for his little brother!! Isn't he such a good big brother?

Anyway-- so one day Tim just does something. A small thing. A small Tim thing. He could've just paused on his walk across the hallway to Dick to look at the reflection of himself of a window and fluffed his hair up a bit, he could've just laughed over a joke Dick made, he could've just smiled at Dick. Point is-- Dick's just suddenly hit with the realization that he is in love with Tim.

It's crushing, it's terrifying, it's-- holy fuck, holy fucking batman, he's in love with his baby brother. It makes him wanna gag, it makes him shy, it maks him want to throw up, it makes him want to kiss Tim. Everything makes sense, the heavy feeling in his heart for every relationship Tim gets in, the relief he feels when Tim's crying onto his shoulder after every failed attempt in his love life, the way Dick just has to always know where Tim is-- who Tim is with-- has to always have Tim in his arms. It all makes... so much sense now. Holy batman he's in love with Tim.

He tries to fix it-- calling Tim his baby brother more often, (it doesn't work, it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue as if he ate sour candy but he smiles it off as Tim groans and pushes him off)

seeing Tim less, (that doesn't work either, it just made Dick more cranky around others until Tim called him one evening, lightly hiccuping and asking him if he'd done something wrong, "what did I do?" Tim sniffles through the phone, and Dick's never been a strong man against Tim.

He folds like an omellete. "Nothing. Nothing baby bird, I've just been busy lately. I have tomorrow free, we can spend the whole day together." Dick coos

"Promise?"

"I promise.")

He's even tried initiating a fight-- but how can he ever be mad at Tim and his pretty blue eyes? ("What's wrong?" Tim asks, brows furrowed and big eyes staring at Dick.

*Tell him. Tell him you're mad at him* "Nothing, Tim. I'm just tired." He can't. He can never be mad at Tim- never ever ever ever.

"Oh." Tim pouts, pretty pink lips puckered up like he was waiting for a kiss. All Dick needs to do is bend down and...

"Maybe a massage might help!" Tim smiles, pearly whites on full display for Dick. "All you need to do is lay down and let me work my magic."

And what was Dick supposed to do? Say no??? To *Tim*?)

Just-- Dick being in a dillemma over realizing he's in love with Tim 😔

yet another ask recovered!!!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ AND I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!

like this dilemma that dick finds himself in, realizing he is deeply in love with his little brother. all these feelings he's had, all the 'strange' things people have seen him do in relation to tim!!!!!!!!!

these tentative steps he's taking to "fix" it because it's BAD that he's in love with tim. tim is his brother, he's known him since he was a child. and dick is too scared to really buckle down and try to figure out when exactly he started feeling this way for tim. when that feeling in his chest shifted to romantic. dick doesn't want to examine that, he doesn't want to poison his tenderest memories of tim like the two of them cuddling together for warmth in dick's apartment after his heater broke. he doesn't want to stain them with the fact that he'd been harboring romantic feelings for tim.

he doesn't want to know because part of him has always been relieved, happy, and excited to be around tim. dick is just so utterly aware of himself, he feels like a teenager in puberty just so uncomfortable in their own skin that they want to peel it off. he pays so much attention when people mention tim, when he sees him or hears him. dick has even once stopped while walking down the street because he spotted a newspaper with tim smiling as he cuts a ribbon to a new WE office in new york.

all of dick's attempts to distance himself from those feelings fail. they just hurt him too much or worse, they hurt tim!

dick being so startlingly aware of his feelings and trying not to give into the temptation of them, trying to scrub them away because they make him feel so guilty even though they make him feel good to. and it's just not feasible...for them to be together. not with how their relationship has been so far...not with how everyone would react. god, what would bruce say? jason? barbara? damian?

dick would cause so much turmoil to tim and the family if he ever admitted it.

but dick is selfish. he knows the right thing to do, the only way to fix this is to put distance between him and tim. but he's selfish. he wants to keep tim and the closeness they have even if its a bad idea.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

just DICK!!! struggling so much!!! over being in love with tim!!!!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[psychologeek]

part 2 - masterpost:

@troiastar

#Jason: how did you know it was mine?#Bruce: why wouldn't I know#Bruce: I've read your fanfiction#Bruce: I'm your father

@guesst

#ok but also gothamite ao3 wroters would be so funny. 'hey guys sorry bout the late update got caught up in a hostage situation yk#how it is'#and non gothamites are all like NO???? R U OK and gothamites are all like haha nws thanks for updating anyway#sjdjs imagine if someone clocks the second robin is this ao3 writer just because of that a/n. djdh#dc

@oatmealcrisp-freak

#abruptly finding myself relating to jason from DC#when the reviews ask if i've died and every day is spent ill and in pain and in worry for what havoc the medications i take to function are#wreaking on my internal organs nevermind the state of my hair 'oh don't tempt the world dear the next person who tries to kidnap me might#be successful'#jason your luck will improve if you stop leaving your house i know thats gonna be hard for you but just commission a jason-bot or a clone#or something and superhero long distance i know your dad would approve. he's DC's tech guy after all#there'll still be an ass-outlet we have only fans now

@adjit

#he’s part of the JAFF community I believe it in my heart#dc

@willtheartist

#this week ive been dealing with a flood and i finally understood Those Ao3 Writers#smth smth about escapism and the more stressed and/or busy u are the more u wanna go write your silly lil words or draw your silly lil guys

@jasontoddswhitehairfluff

#he was so devoted as a kid that he unconsciously kept writing during his zombie days#I doubt that the league had internet#but that’s not important#he posts under a completely different account#cause if you can’t remember your password while alive you sure as hell can’t when you’re half dead#most of the works are bland with repetitive phrases from his previous ones#he gets a notification from the account after going to Gotham#has the same reaction as adults looking back at their teenage cringe works#he actually wrote those??#zombification is no excuse for misunderstanding character motivation!!#bruce still finds out from getting the notification from the other account#jason had to update something of substance to make up for that mess#crack#jason todd

@brandycranby

#jason todd#gets back to Gotham with three things in mind: destroy the underworld kill batman and finish his 30+ ch fic#batfam

And the he'd check out the account and see a brand new, shiny, Pride & Prejudice & Zombies self-insert crackfic 😂

@chilli-onmy-wieny

#he updates the 400k pride and prejudice zombie au that inspired the movie and is hailed as the bible of the jane austen fandom#you feel me ?#jason todd#jason todd headcanon

@littledead-ridinghood long post:

@stuffsforl8r

#jason is one of those writers who just churns fics out quickly and yet they’re always amazing polished masterpieces#jason is just the most productive person#jason todd

@liavidge

Stephanie quotes one of his fics on patrol and the world ends Superboy Beta style.

@mightyneteyam

#stephanie subscribes to jason's acc#at first she has no idea who's behind it she just likes the author's sense of humor#but the additional notes made her.. squint and connects#Two and Two so she has her suspicions#jason on the other hand has one fav reader who leaves long-ass comments#and absolutely has 0 idea that's steph's acc#this is how stephanie became jason's beta reader#jason todd#stephanie brown

@swugflower

“Hey guys! So sorry for the long pause, got murdered by the joker lmao. Anyway as a sorry have an extra long chapter!”

#I once read a fic written by two authors and one of them actually died#and the other one finished the story#and like that’s horrible but I was so shocked I just had to laugh#like it was in an authors note or Smth#yea she died in a car accident#BRUH

@stvlti

#not sure about Bruce hanging out on ao3 *cringe*#that would be the worst nightmare for everyone involved#but Jason totally writes historical aus#dc txt

@the-lunar-warrior

#jdbsodhdjs JDHSODB#first thing he does after climbing out of the lazarus pit is not go into murderous rage its go update his sonic fanfic

@idek-dood

#help im obsessed with this idea#a/n: sorry guys i had to foght some dinosaurs this weekend so the update is two days late#a/n: my idiot brother was almost killed last night but i was determined to get this chapter out on time! hope theres not too many errors <3#funny#batfam#jason todd#red hood#queued up

@child-of-the-sea-and-sky

#djskalfhlsdkjfh#Now I need a Red Hood short film where it shows someone reading his A/N's and then cutting to the eventsReblogView post

@interplanetary-redacted

#prev youre so right he DID stalk jason's internet use as a kid and got updated via ao3 update emails to discover he's alive#alrernatively he's currently in the LoA updating like ''so i like. died. got adopted by my adopted dad's ex and live w her now in#not-america and my toddler brother helped me write this via babbling and crawling over me and also listening to me read it out loud as#a bedtime story (mom-approved dw) [it has an E rating for the gore] and in general just being cute i suppose :/#here's what he has to say about it: *incomprehensible keysmash* Anyway thanks for still reading if youre here#i appreciate it a lot and im sure i'll have more updates soon between my training and babysitting''#and bruce meanwhile is reading this like EXCUSE ME WTF! TALIA?!#he works on his own arabic translation as homework for talia as well#jason todd#dc

@redrobin-detective

#lmao jason would be the one to be a FF author#him and Tim maybe but Tim is the one posting detailed complex meta thats like a vague story#Jason meanwhile is writing novel length and deeply detailed stories

[i'm up to Aug 29, 2022. It's 5 AM. i'mma go to sleep. good luck and thanks everyone!]

Jason as those AO3 authors who have the worst tragedies happening to them and yet still continues to pump out his new chapter every week

Some poor, unbeknownst Gothamite: “My favorite fanfic writer hasn’t posted or updated any of their fanfic in like four years. I don’t want to bug them but I’m always hoping for them to come back. I hope their okay :( ”

Jason, in between cutting off right hand mens heads and antagonize black mask, like Really Living It Up: “hey, sorry, guys! I know it’s been forever! I literally died and clawed my way back from zombiehood, but I’m back now! Hope you enjoy this new chapter!”

[virq-qgo]

It’s going to be okay

A/n:) Heyyy I’m back, this time with pattison Bruce Wayne. Why? Because I am in fucking love with him,

warnings: mention of blood, injury, stitches.

You wait for your beloved boyfriend, Bruce Wayne. But what happens when the vigilante breaks into the mansion at the brink of death

It was past two am and Bruce still wasn’t home. He had told you specifically that he would be home a little earlier tonight for your birthday but he had left you all alone today. Your only company was his butler, Alfred. A sigh had escaped your lips when you sat down, it was pointless waiting for your boyfriend. Not knowing when he’ll be home and staying up late just to see him. It started to make you think he wasn’t interested in you anymore, like he was trying to stay away from the manor just to avoid you. 

Another sigh escaped from your lips. You didn’t want to wait any longer for him anymore, the pain being unbearable. But once you got up from your seat and were about to exit the room, you heard a crash. You swore you felt your heart miss a beat when you saw a rather large figure in front of you. 

“H-hello?” your voice comes out in a mere whisper. Something you would mentally slap yourself later. You took a few steps toward the slumped figure taking a few seconds to recognize who it was. It was the one and only Batman. But what was he doing here in your boyfriend's mansion?

Shaking your head at your thoughts you crouched down to be at his level. The man's face was cut and bruised badly, blood was seeping through the heavy armor of his suit. “Holy fuck..” you mumble as panic filled your vains. “We need to get you to a hospital!” You try to lift his arm over your shoulder so you could move him better but he jerked away from your touch.

“No, just ta-take me to your room.” He rasps out

You wasted no time on taking him into your room. He throws off the armor to his suit revealing the deep gash on his side. It was bleeding intensely, and if you didn’t do something soon he would die. You set the man on your bed and immediately dug through your drawers for first aid. When you found it you took it out and began sanitizing his wound. Your lips were in between your teeth as you worked on him. Heart shattering each time a hiss would leave his lips.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper, a needle was in your hand already prepped with medical string. “If it hurts just grab onto my arm.”

Another hiss of pain could be heard from him while you kept mumbling how sorry you were. You wish there was a less painful way of giving stitches but his wound was too deep. But sooner than expected you were done and the man was asleep. A sigh you didn’t know was holding left your lips. You wiped your brow and put everything away then left the room to fetch some water but when you came back you saw the mask of the suit on the ground and your boyfriend sitting with his back facing you.

“Bruce?” your voice comes out as a whisper, tears well up in your eyes as you set down the water on the bed stand. 

Bruce was expecting for you to yell at him, maybe throw something at him. But he definitely didn’t expect for you to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck. He cranes his head when he feels your hot tears drip onto his skin. He calls out your name but you cut him off, “Shut up. You almost died, I better not hear a lame ass excuse you have to give me.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“You’re sorry?” you scoff, “I sit here countless nights waiting for you to come home. And when you finally do, you keep your distance from me like I have the plague.” Your hands come up to your face to wipe at your tears. “What did I do wrong for you to hate me so much?”

Bruce's face softens as he shifts his body around to face you. How could you think that he hates you? He loves you so much that it hurts. Bruce feels his heart break watching you cry because of him. His hand comes to cup your cheek while his thumb brushes away your tears. “You think I hate you?” His voice is weak and feels tears well up in his eyes. “I could never hate you, you mean too much to me.” He tries to blink the tears away but it only makes his tears fall. 

“Bruce-” you call out to him but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry for being such a bad boyfriend. I know I don’t deserve you, but you make me so unbelievably happy. And I know I shouldn’t have kept this secret from you but I couldn’t bear to put you in danger. I’m sorry (name).”

You quietly shush him and bring his head to your chest. His arms wrap around your waist as you run your fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. I promise.” 

Bruce's cries got quieter and quieter by the time. You gently pull his face back from your chest to see that your lover was sleeping. A smile made its way on your face as you lay down on the bed, bringing Bruce with you. It was going to be okay, you thought. 

You both were going to be okay. 

[get-your-fics]

skinny love

Summary: Edward Nashton was your best friend, and now your roommate, ever since the orphanage. But when you accidentally end up doing some detective work of your own, you uncover his secret double life and realize he’s not at all who you thought he was.

Pairing: Edward Nashton x reader

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: Non-con, incel mindset, creepy behavior, slight sexism

A/N: i’m back on my dc bullshit because i saw the batman and absolutely loved it (i mean, anyone who knows me saw this coming). so, expect more to come in the future! maybe a series? maybe some bruce wayne? who knows?

You were halfway through a bottle of wine and almost asleep when the front door creaked open. You blinked awake enough to see Edward tiptoe into the apartment, slipping off his shoes by the door before sneaking off to his room.

“Finally, he shows!” you crowed, your voice groggy with sleep and your words slurring together.

Your voice made him stop in his tracks. “You’re still up?”

“I was waiting for you, don’t you know?” You propped yourself up on your elbows. “You missed movie night. You never miss movie night.”

He let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry. We’re training new employees at the office. They messed up the accounts, so I had to stay late fixing them.” He raked his fingers through his russet locks.

You grumbled and narrowed your eyes at him. There was something practiced about his exasperation, like it was all some farce. He’d been coming home later than usual, working longer hours, and although he was always apologetic and told you a perfectly valid excuse, there was something in his clear, glassy eyes that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You shrugged it off as he walked over to you. You swung your legs, sitting up and scooting over to make room for him on the couch. He sank into the cushions next to you. “What were you planning to watch?”

You grabbed the remote and clicked the TV back on. The screen flickered to a still image of 13 Going on 30. “Do you remember watching this in the orphanage?” The rare times they let you watch anything on the TV, that was.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I remember. You took the only doll house in the orphanage hostage. The staff got so mad when you sprinkled glitter all over it.”

You giggled at the memory of the angry looks on the adults’ faces, red and puffy like cherry tomatoes. You could practically see the way their thick brows knitted together and they pursed their thin lips in disapproval.

“I remember what you wished for, too.” He adjusted his glasses, a fond smirk toying at his lips.

You let out a groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Please don’t remind me.”

“You wished that we could live in a castle made of marshmallows,” he said anyway, trying and failing to hold back a snicker.

You peeked at him through your fingers. “Well, you have to admit, that does sound pretty tasty.”

He shook his head at you, and you shoved his shoulder playfully. “Hey, look around us! My wish pretty much came true, besides the marshmallow bit.”

He smiled at you, something indicherable in his eyes. “I guess so.”

You bit your lip and averted your gaze. You weren’t sure if it was the wine talking or not, but you weren’t sure how to feel when he looked at you like that.

As soon as it had come, it was gone just like that. He cleared his throat. “It sounds like you could’ve watched it without me. You like this movie more than I do.”

“Well, it’s my week to pick, but I would never dream of starting movie night without you.”

“I think I can do without being reminded of the orphanage.” He leaned back against the couch, a far off look in his eyes. You saw his jaw tick.

Your heart wrenched in your chest. Your time in the orphanage had been anything but a picnic, but Edward still seemed to harbor a deep resentment for it. “It wasn’t all bad,” you murmured.

He shot you a scathing look, and you rolled your eyes. “I mean, it wasn’t ideal, don’t get me wrong. But there were some good parts.” You bumped your shoulder into his. “We wouldn’t have met otherwise.”

Even the smallest hint of a smile on his lips felt like a win. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Besides, we got through it, and I’d say we both turned out pretty well.”

The look on his face was unreadable. “Yeah, we did.”

Silence ensued. He picked up the bottle of wine on the coffee table and swirled the contents. He looked pointedly at your empty wine glass and raised a brow. “Are you drunk?”

You shrugged. “I was gonna wait to watch the movie with you. I wasn’t gonna wait to start drinking.”

He laughed, his whole face lighting up in a way that made your stomach do a somersault. You grinned, dangling the remote in front of him. “We still have time to watch.”

He eyed your inebriated form up and down. “I don’t know if you can make it all the way through.”

“So? If I fall asleep, you can carry me to bed,” you argued.

“I have work in the morning…” he trailed off.

“Aw, come on. You already showed up late. You owe me one now.” You leaned closer, batting your lashes up at him. “Please, Eddie?”

You knew you had him when you heard his breath hitch. “Fine,” he gave in. “But if I’m grumpy tomorrow, it’s your fault.”

You cheered and did a little drunken dance that made him laugh. You hit play and settled into your usual position with your legs tucked under you and your head on his shoulder. He was rigid next to you at first, but as the movie went on, he eventually relaxed, resting his head on top of yours. He draped a blanket over the both of you and slung his arm behind you over the back of the couch.

By the time Jenna was thirty, you were already falling asleep, your eyes half open. “Thank you, Eddie,” you murmured sleepily as your eyes slid closed.

“Anything for you,” you heard him whisper back.

When the movie finished, he turned off the TV, shrouding the living room in darkness. He carried you to bed and tucked you into the covers, pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

You tapped your pencil against the countertop, your eyes glued to the clock on the wall. You already had Edward’s order (a latte and a slice of pumpkin pie) written down on your little notepad, ready to give to the chef the second he arrived. He always made it a point to stop by the diner during your shift after work, but he was fifteen minutes late already.

Your hand froze when you heard a snap. You looked down to see the lead of your pencil had broken, leaving a dark smear across the counter. You cursed under your breath and tossed the pencil in the trash.

Your coworker Patrice, an older woman who wasn’t afraid to overline her wrinkled lips and wear bright eyeshadow, looked over at you from where she was filling a man’s mug and guffawed in amusement. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

You grabbed a rag and started scrubbing at the lead on the counter. “Ed’s not here yet.”

She arched a drawn-on eyebrow. “Boyfriend issues?”

It was your turn to laugh. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“You might want to tell him that,” she muttered under her breath, though still pointedly loud enough for you to hear.

You snapped your head to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he’s in here.” She smiled teasingly, revealing two rows of teeth yellow from years of smoke breaks. “He looks at you like you’re the only one in the room.”

Your face flushed, heat creeping up your cheeks. Your shoulders hunched like a turtle retracting into its shell. “We’re just friends.”

She snorted. “I could use a friend like that.”

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your apron, and you silently expressed gratitude for the interruption. You held up a finger to Patrice telling her to hold on and turned away from her, pulling out your phone. You tapped the screen, and it lit up displaying a message from Edward, finally replying to the multiple texts you’d sent pestering him about where he was. Your stomach did a little flip.

You slid your phone open, your eyes scanning over the message: Sorry, got caught up with work. Won’t be able to stop by.

Your heart sank to your gut, and you frowned. His visits made your shifts at your dead end waitressing job a little more bearable. You let out a huff, your shoulders slouching. You typed a quick message back, your fingers flitting across the screen in a blur: No worries. See you at home.

“Pretty sure we’re not supposed to be on our phones while on the clock,” Patrice said, peeking over your shoulder.

You quickly clicked your phone off and tucked it away. “Ed’s not coming.”

She faked a sympathetic pout. “Troubles in paradise?”

You rolled your eyes and went back to wiping down the counter. “He’s just been busy at work lately, working overtime. And even when he’s home, he’s not really… present.”

She leaned against the counter. “Maybe he’s got a girl on the side.”

“Once again, we’re just friends,” you pointed out. “And if he was seeing someone, he’d tell me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe he got tired of chasing you like a lost puppy, waiting for you to come around.”

It was like she was speaking your worst fears aloud. You wrinkled your nose at the thought of Edward sneaking around with some girl behind your back. You told yourself it wasn’t the girl that bothered you, just the idea that he would keep something like that from you. After all, you’ve been more than forthcoming with all the people you’ve dated in the past.

You shook your head. “It’s not that.”

She chortled. “Is someone jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” you snapped, but caught yourself. You heaved a sigh. “Just annoyed. If he had a girl, I’d be happy for him. I just don’t know why he wouldn’t tell me.”

She shrugged. “Maybe you’re being paranoid and he really is just busy with work.” She leaned closer to you. “You sure you’re just friends?”

“Positive.”

“Trust me, girl. I’ve lived a lot more life than you have.” She gesticulated. “That boy is crazy about you.”

You scraped your bottom lip with your teeth. “We’re close.”

“Too close,” she said with a knowing smirk.

You brushed off her remarks. Patrice loved to pry into people’s personal lives and stir up drama. You couldn’t let her get in your head.

Her attention was drawn to something over your shoulder, and she tsked. “Can't believe the police haven’t caught that Riddler guy yet. He literally livestreams his murders.”

One of the patrons in the diner spoke up, “GCPD ain’t good for shit!”

“You can say that again!” Patrice hollered back.

You turned around to see a news broadcast playing on the TV in the corner announcing that the serial killer calling himself the Riddler had murdered the police commissioner. The blood drained from your face as the image of the masked figure appeared on screen. The crazed look in his wild eyes chilled you to the bone, and yet there was something oddly familiar about him.

“This is getting out of hand,” you murmured. Gotham was a city already known for its rampant crime, but a psychopathic serial killer who left riddles at his crime scenes for a vigilante to solve was something else entirely.

By the end of your grueling shift, you were spent. You kicked off your shoes the second you opened the door to your apartment, throwing your heavy purse down on the floor. You walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, content to drink yourself into a stupor waiting for Edward to get home from work.

You popped the cork and tossed it in the trash. You froze when you noticed a piece of paper at the bottom of the trash can. You reached down and picked it up. It was Edward’s latest credit card statement.

You knew you shouldn’t be nosy. You knew you shouldn’t look at it. You knew you should tear it into little pieces and put it in the recycling (where it actually belonged). But it was like something about it was calling your name, drawing you to it.

You scanned the list of purchases, pausing when you saw what looked like a rent payment. Except it wasn’t to the apartment you shared with him, but to somewhere else.

Curiosity ate at you. You nibbled your lips and picked at your fingers, deciding what to do. You could just pretend you never saw it, or risk asking Edward about it when he got home. Or you could do something really, really reckless and stupid.

You put the wine back in the fridge; it could wait.

Edward’s secret apartment turned out to be not too far from the diner you worked at, and it was odd to think you could be there oblivious to the knowledge that he was just a short distance away. You shrank in on yourself when you crossed into the seedier part of town, trying not to draw attention and make yourself invisible.

Your mind raced with thoughts as you walked down the street. Had Edward really rented a whole separate apartment to have his girlfriend over without telling you? It all seemed so bizarre and ridiculous. Would he really go to such extreme lengths just to keep this mystery girl from you?

The apartment building was across the street from the Iceberg Lounge, and you dodged drunk men clinging to scantily clad women on the sidewalk. You walked up the stairs to the apartment, stopping at the door. You raised your fist, hesitating for a moment before rapping your knuckles against the door.

You listened for the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door, but it was dead silent. When you were certain no one was home, you looked up and down the hall before pulling out a bobby pin and jiggling it in the lock. You’d learned how to pick locks in the orphanage when you and Edward would stay up late and break into the playroom to play board games.

You heard a click and gave the door a push. It swung open on its hinges, and you stood up straight. You were not at all prepared for what was waiting for you on the other side.

One thing you were sure of was that Edward was not bringing a girl back here. The room was full of wall to wall clutter, papers strewn about everywhere. There wasn’t a bed or even a sofa in sight.

Your concern only grew as you crossed the threshold, wandering further into the abyss. You were so shocked, there seemed no way to close your jaw; it permanently hung open. You gaped at the cages of squeaking rats and what looked like a bat on top of a table.

You noticed a shelf crammed with ledgers, similar to the ones you’d seen Edward use when he brought work home sometimes. But when you flipped through one, it was full of unintelligible nonsense, messages written in some sort of cryptic code, the ramblings of a madman.

“Oh, Eddie…” you muttered to yourself. How bad had it gotten?

You put the ledger back and moved onto the desk. Your heart stopped when you took in the photos and newspaper clippings plastered above the desk. There were photos of the mayor and the police commissioner, their eyes scratched out. Your breath hitched when you spotted an eerily recognizable question mark.

You suddenly wished he had been hiding a secret girlfriend from you instead.

You slowly backed away from the desk, your mind racing with thoughts too fast to comprehend any of them fully. No… There was no way… He couldn’t…

A familiar voice calling your name from behind you made you stop in your tracks.

You slowly spun on your heel, too scared of what you would see behind you. The masked figure you had seen on the news stood in the open doorway, his tall form taking up the frame. Your pulse spiked with alarm.

Then the figure reached up and tore off his mask, shaking out his full head of long, russet hair. He lifted his head, and it was Eddie, your Eddie, staring back at you.

You could do nothing but stare at him, eyes wide with shock, your mouth opening and closing but not making a sound. “You’re… you’re…” you managed to stutter, but you couldn’t get the full sentence out.

“The Riddler?” he finished for you.

You nodded, not taking your eyes off of him for a second.

He stepped closer to you. “How did you find this place?”

Your hand shook as you reached into your purse. You pulled out the crumpled credit card statement and held it out to him. You flinched when he snatched it from you.

His eyes ran over it with a hard look on his face. Then, he laughed, but the sound was cold and cruel to your ears. “I should’ve known better than to just leave this lying around where anyone could find it. Sloppy,” he chastised under his breath. He glanced up at you. “I guess I thought you would mind your business.”

“I’m worried about you, Ed,” you said.

“You’re worried about me?” he sneered. “That’s cute.”

“You need help,” you insisted.

He crunched the paper into a ball and tossed it over his shoulder. “I am the help. I’m helping cleanse this city, one body at a time.”

You struggled to make sense of his words like he was speaking in riddles. There was only one question, one word, echoing in your mind. “Why?”

He stalked towards you, the thick soles of his boots landing with a heavy thud with each step. You backed up until you hit the edge of the desk, shivering like a chihuahua. He reached out and cupped your face in his gloved hands.

“I’m doing this for you, for us.” His thumbs stroked along your cheekbones, his eyes boring into you. “These people hurt us. I’m giving them justice. This is righteous retribution.”

He seemed so sure of what he was saying, speaking with such strong conviction. “You’ve completely lost it,” you whispered.

His grip on your face tightened, his fingers digging into your skin painfully. You yelped. “I’m doing what needs to be done,” he spat. He let go of you, and you sucked in a much needed breath. “I thought you of all people would understand that.”

You looked him up and down. You’d never seen him so angry before, his jaw set and his hands clenched into fists. He wasn’t your Eddie, not anymore. The man standing in his place was a monster wearing his skin.

“Not like this, Eddie,” you nearly sobbed, your voice on the verge of cracking with emotion. “Not like this.”

He gritted his teeth. “That’s very disappointing that you think that.”

You grabbed his arm, tugging on his sleeve. “We can go to the police, explain to them that you’re not well. We can get you help!”

He shook you off. “I’m too deep into this.” His eyes narrowed. “And now so are you.”

You suddenly felt suffocated by his close proximity to you. You peered behind him at the open door. If you could just subdue him long enough to make it out the door, you’d have a chance of outrunning him.

He noticed you eying the door, and you leapt into action, elbowing him in the ribs. He groaned as he doubled over in pain, clutching his ribs. You bolted for the door, your heart pounding so hard that your entire body shook.

You felt a hard body collide with yours and tackle you to the ground. You struggled to buck him off, but he managed to grab your wrists and pin them on either side of your head. You writhed against his hold on you, but it remained strong.

“Stop, please! I don’t want to hurt you!” He pinned your legs with his knees, his kneecaps digging into your thighs. “I love you!” he blurted.

You stopped and blinked up at him. “I love you too, Eddie.” That’s what made this even harder.

He made a noise of frustration. “Not like that.” He looked desperate, his blue eyes glossy. “I’m in love with you. I always have been, ever since we met.”

Your chest rose up and down rapidly as you panted. Once upon a time, you would’ve been overjoyed to hear him say that. Your heart would’ve swelled and the music would’ve crescendoed as you moved in for a kiss. But now, as he leaned down, your heart hammered out of fear and not anticipation.

“Do you remember when we used to sleep in the same bed as kids? When one of us was having nightmares or it was so cold at night, our fingers would turn blue?” He laughed breathlessly. “We would huddle together for warmth, shivering under the covers.”

You froze as he rested his forehead against yours, his breath fanning your face. “I always slept easiest when we were together. Sometimes, I still find myself outside your door when I can’t sleep.” He shuddered, letting out a shaky exhale. “Sometimes, I have to watch you sleep just to put my mind at ease.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his confession  like he had poured a bucket of ice water down your back. Your muscles locked into place as he laid all of his weight on top of you, crushing you underneath him. It was clear you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Let me keep you warm again,” he whispered against your lips. Then, he tilted his head, his nose brushing against yours as he pressed his lips to your frozen ones.

You stayed completely still as he kissed you, but he didn’t seem to mind. You stared up at the ceiling as he moved his lips against yours, your eyes wide open. The kiss was just as you’d always imagined it would be, soft and sweet and gentle. It made your heart clench with sorrow and longing for something you now knew you would never have.

He pulled away and gazed down at you. You wondered if this was what Patrice had seen at the diner, the obsessed, unbridled intensity in his eyes that was solely zeroed in on you.

“I remember when we went through puberty. It felt like you went from a kid to this gorgeous, beautiful creature overnight.” He trapped both your wrists in one hand above your head, the other running down your side. “Suddenly, you had all these curves, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to touch you.”

You squirmed under his touch, tears beading at your lash line. “Ed, don’t, please,” you whimpered.

It was like he didn’t hear you, because he didn’t stop, mesmerized by the path his hand was carving over your hip to the meat of your thigh. “I used to jerk off thinking about all the things I wanted to do to you.” He chuckled. “Hell, if I’m being honest, I still do.”

You turned your head away and squeezed your eyes shut like that could block out what he was saying. You felt like you were living in a nightmare you couldn’t wake yourself up from.

Your eyes shot open when his hand pushed up your skirt. “Ed!” you gasped. “Stop!”

He didn’t listen, hooking his fingers under the band of your underwear and dragging them down your legs. “I can’t.” He looked like he was in a trance. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t recognize the man fiddling with the zipper on his pants anymore, the man you had once trusted more than anyone, who you’d thought you’d known like the back of your hand.

He took his hard length out of his pants, stroking up and down his shaft. Precome was already beading at the flushed tip. The fight was renewed in you when he positioned himself at your entrance. You bared your teeth, trying to claw at him.

He let go of his cock to wrestle you back into submission. “Stop it,” he hissed in annoyance like he was trying to give a fussy cat a bath. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

He shoved you down hard, and the back of your head connected with the wood floor. Stars burst across your vision, and your whole body went limp underneath him, your head spinning.

“That’s it.” You felt the blunt head of his cock against your entrance before he pushed into you, white hot pain shooting through your core.

Every muscle in your body seized as you came back to full alertness, your back arching as an involuntary shriek left your lips. You weren’t prepared to accommodate someone of his size at all, let alone wet enough for him to thrust into you to the hilt in one go.

He groaned once he was fully sheathed within you. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He closed his eyes, enraptured in pure bliss. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this, how long I’ve dreamed of it.”

His hips retreated only to thrust back into you, jolting you on the floor. He stuttered out a little moan as he set a slow, steady yet firm pace, the head of his cock tapping your cervix. You felt like he was grating your insides, and it was all you could do to focus on your breathing and stifle your sobs.

“Do you know how hard it was for me to listen to you rant about all your shitty exes who treated you like dirt?” he grunted. “To be there as the shoulder to cry on and pick up the pieces when they inevitably broke your heart?”

His pace sped up until it was almost punishing, his pelvis smacking against yours each time he rammed into you. “Do you know how hard it was for me to pretend I couldn’t hear them fucking you through the wall, to hear all the pretty, little noises you made and know they weren’t for me?”

You mewled in response. Your fingers clenched, searching for something to hold onto, to ground you, to keep you from falling off the edge of the world. You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“I never would’ve treated you like that. I would’ve treated you right. But you never even gave me a second glance.” The venom laced in his tone was like a slap to the face. “We’re perfect for each other. We belong together. But you never saw me, even when I waited patiently for you to come around, even when I stuck by your side no matter what.”

He leaned down so his chest was pressed against yours, his face hovering over you. “I swear to God, I’ll kill every single one of them who had you like this, until I’m the only person alive who knows your body,” he whispered, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear.

He slipped his hand in between your bodies, his long fingers finding your clit. “I want to hear those noises you made again, but this time you’ll make them for me.”

His fingers circled your clit as he continued to move within you, and for the first time, you felt a spark of pleasure tickle your tailbone. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip so hard you thought you’d bleed, keeping in the moans that threatened to escape. He fit perfectly within you, filling you up in a way no one before him ever had, and it made you sad to think that under other circumstances, you might’ve enjoyed this.

You couldn’t hold back your moan as you came around him, the light, airy sound floating from your lips as you clamped down on him like a vice. A few more shallow thrusts, and he was done for too, spilling into you with a guttural groan.

He collapsed on top of you, pressing your body further into the floor. You knew you’d be achy and sore and covered in bruises tomorrow. He was still inside of you, large and pulsing and throbbing. You felt his come seep out of you around his cock and winced.

"This is where you belong," he murmured into your hair, "under me, full of my come with my cock inside you. This is what you were made for.”

He lifted his head, and you looked up at him. His glasses were slightly askew on his nose, the lenses all fogged up. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were red and swollen. The overwhelming heat emanating from him seemed to sear you, like you were burning alive.

He caressed your cheek, a soft smile on his lips. “I’ll make your wish come true. I’ll give you your castle, and this city will be a good place for us to live in. I promise,” he assured you. He leaned down and pecked your lips. “I’d do anything for you, you know.”

Your tears welled over and ran down your temples. That was what you were afraid of.

Days later, a masked vigilante would break down the door of an apartment and find a girl in the corner, her wrists and mouth bound with duct tape.

Meanwhile, a couple blocks away, a man sits in a diner and orders a latte with a slice of pumpkin pie.

[dramatisperscnae]

Oh. Well that answers a lot of questions at once. Why Alfred is here, why he's stayed, whether he knew the Waynes himself…he was the butler. Dick's heart hurts again. Is there anything happy about this house? It has to be terrible, staying in this huge house all alone after the people you worked for were all gone. People that, Dick assumes, Alfred had liked. Maybe even loved, like they'd been family.

He looks back down at his plate, toying with the last scraps of food on it, not really sure what to say now. There's too much on his mind, too many questions, too many things he's trying to think about, too many things he's trying not to think about…and the silence of the manor isn't helping, broken as it is only by the sound of silverware against their plates.

"He'll…probably want to come check on me," Dick says with an uncomfortable shrug, "and he'll probably be mad…he was arguing with the police, back at the circus. Over them not letting me stay. I don't-…" He pauses, glancing at the shade now standing just close enough to the window to stare out without standing in the last bits of sunlight. "…I don't want him yelling at Batman. Or you," he added, looking back at Alfred.

"I can ask him to bring my stuff, too," Dick tries a smile, and it almost feels real. "So I don't…have to keep borrowing clothes." Maybe Mr. Haly will bring his parents' things, too, or at least some of them; Dick doesn't really know what he's going to do with it all, but it's going to have to go somewhere. The circus is probably going to want that trailer back, so it'll have to be emptied and right now he can't bear the thought of anything in it going in the trash or being left on the side of the road.

With nothing left to say, though, Dick sits for a few moments longer before pushing away from the table. He's not sure if he should take his dish into the kitchen himself or leave it for Alfred, so he hesitates a moment before excusing himself to go make that phone call. Finding the telephone isn't too tricky, since he remembers roughly where Alfred had gone to do that earlier, and soon enough he's dialing Mr. Haly's phone number.

It takes a long time for Dick to convince the circus owner that he really is all right and that no one made him leave. He can't talk Mr. Haly out of making the trip out to the manor - and he can hear the shock in the man's voice that he really is at Wayne Manor - but he's at least hopeful that there won't be any yelling when Mr. Haly does show up tomorrow morning. It's too late for meetings and check-ups tonight; Dick just doesn't have the energy for it. He's already trying not to yawn while he's on the phone.

Once the call is over he heads back to the dining room, to see if Alfred or Batman is still there. If they are, that's fine; he can climb back into a seat at the table. If they're not…well, he can try to find his way back to his bedroom on his own. He's pretty sure he remembers the way.

      🦇—-;; Bruce looked down at the food that was placed on his plate, his shadows swirl a little, poking it, though his hands don't move. He had been given an empty plate if only to not waste food, since Alfred used to make him food, he felt bad for the waste and asked him to give him an empty plate when he sat with him. Still, he's polite enough to give a little thanks to Dick, it was considerate of the boy to try and make him feel less left out, but the empty plate had been happening for years. Even if Bruce could eat what was on the plate now, he wouldn't be able to taste it.

Alfred sighs a little at the request, "I am aware, I am...or was the butler here...It...helps me it stay in that formality, sir." The older man explains. Bruce looked at him, his expression shifts again, tired and sad. Alfred doesn't seem to notice, or if he does he doesn't draw attention to it, Batman was an odd creature, but welcomed company that did feel familiar enough he doesn't mind pretending he was a resident here he can look after. At least he doesn't have to pick up after him, with him being a ghost of some sort.

Bruce blinks a little when Dick speaks to him and his head tilts, "I know I don't have to sit here, but I have no where else to be..." He says, he really didn't mind sitting here with them both. He'd be lonelier if he set about wandering the halls again. The spirit didn't really want to dwell in melancholy today, his being already hurts for the boy he's brought home, but he is glad it seems to have been accept that he is staying here, Bruce doesn't want him going to the orphanage. He'd fight anyone who tried to take him.

Alfred nods, "well, it seems Batman is intent on you staying here, and there is certainly space here for you. Though, I doubt Batman would let me disagree, he seems protective of you already. All I know is he brought you here because he thinks you'll be safe here and he's not wrong." Alfred observes, though he is mostly focused on his meal. "And of course you can borrow a phone to call Mr Haly. I spoke to the GCPD about Batman bringing you here, just so people know where you've gone. It's likely the news reached your friend."

Bruce huffs, seeming to puff up slightly like a cat before he sunk down in the chair and disappeared and then reappeared elsewhere in the room, standing by the window, avoiding the light seeping through. He's watching the gardens, not for any particular reason, but he gets the feeling there will be yelling if Mr Haly comes here, (which he got the feeling he would, just to know for sure Dick was unharmed and safe). Like there had been back at the circus, he hadn't been particularly fond of it. "Batman, why don't you go rest, you've been very active today, it must be tiring." Alfred offers, only to get grumbled at about being not tired.

[babybluebex]

yandere!jonathan crane pt.3

tw: pregnancy, a lot of talk about suicide, mentions of past abuse, huge manipulation trigger, i think this is the darkest thing i've ever written so REALLY take this trigger warning to heart

after about three months of existing in jonathan's house, chained up every day, you feel suffocated

true to his word, he uncuffs you every evening when he gets home and lets you go about your wifely duties around the house, tidying up and gathering laundry and making dinner

he likes to watch you do the mundane work, and he's practically heart eyes the whole time because this is exactly what he's wanted for so long, a sweet obedient little wife

he hasn't hit you since the first time but, knowing now that it's a possibility, you flinch every time he goes to hug you he always looks like a hurt puppy when you flinch away from him "my love, did i do something wrong?"

he refuses to even acknowledge that it was him who put this fear in you, so he assumes it was someone from your old life who used to hit you

"aren't you glad you don't have to deal with them anymore? you're safe with me"

you try to bargain with your husband about the chains and handcuffs "two hours a day, only while you're out" and he refuses

he just can't risk someone taking you he's particularly fixated on the fact that the batman might come and take you

he says his name as if he's mocking him "the batman"

you figured out that there’s only one way that he’ll loosen up, and you wait for the perfect time to tell him the lie

comes home from work one day and kisses your head as he fishes the key out of his pocket

“i’m late”

“late to what?”

“no, johnny. i’m late. my period— i’m usually pretty regular… what if i’m pregnant?”

(you are technically late, though; you had heard about people who went through traumatic situations and their bodies shut down, and you knew that that was what was going on)

he fully entertains the idea, smiling and kissing your head “that would be amazing, love. i’ll scale back the hours at arkham so i’m home more for you… what’s wrong, you seem upset”

“i-i’m just nervous” and shrug “yknow pregnancy is so intense, on top of all of…” move your hands and the chains clank “this”

“i won’t chain you up when you’re pregnant” jonathan tells you and his eyebrows wrinkle like of course i won’t do, what do you think i am, crazy?

"really?" but you have to play along, you can't show him how excited you are

"chaining up my pregnant wife?" he scoffs "i'm not a monster, my love."

you did anticipate him loosening the reigns a little bit but not this much

your mind wanders to escape for the first time, and you wonder what he would do if he found out you couldn't go home because he'd find you there, he's too smart not to check your old apartment first

you were trapped

hell, it was probably better to stay with jonathan than to try to make it out on your own in gotham

you spend the next day or two wondering how you'll pass the ruse of pregnancy, and you finally land on not trying anything special at all

even if you don't, jonathan loves you, and he wouldn't doubt you about this sort of thing

without the chains on your wrists during the day, you feel so free

you walk around the empty apartment, exploring the places you hadn't been allowed before, his office and a small room that your husband had called the closet but you knew was actually a third room

you had an excuse ready for if he came home early and caught you: "i thought maybe it could be the baby's room, i didn't mean to snoop" but he never comes home early

this closet room made your stomach turn

pictures of you, covering every inch of the wall

it looked like something out of a movie

some were taken off of your social media profiles, selfies and cute pictures of you and your friends

some where taken from afar, as you drank coffee in the park or pursued a book store

dr crane had been watching you, stalking you, for months

does he even know how long he had been obsessed with you? was it before you were his patient? or had you become his patient because he was stalking you?

you just couldn't take it, and you ran out of the room and back to the bedroom, and you almost screamed when you saw your husband sitting on the edge of the bed

bile rises in your throat and you press your fist to your mouth "johnny, wh-what're you doing home so early?"

"i testified in another case today," he tells you. "like the falcone case a few months ago. we finished early, which is a miracle in the gotham court system, and i thought i'd take you out to dinner. are you ok? you look pale"

you nodded and swallowed down your fear and vomit and dread "just morning sickness" you lied "i don't get it in the morning, though... usually after lunch"

jonathan extended his arms to you and you slinked into his grip, and he pulled you down onto the bed next to him

he presses a kiss to your forehead and begins to soothingly rub your stomach, and you press your forehead under his chin as he calmed you down

but the sickness comes back in a snap when you feel a tug inside you, almost like a nudge "did you feel that?" and your husband is so pleased "aw, she kicked, love!"

"i-is that what that feels like?" you sniffled because no fucking way, there's no fucking way you're actually pregnant, fucking absolutely not, it's not true, please let it be a joke

"did it feel weird?" jonathan asks and you don't try to hide it anymore you're terrified because he did finally manage to capture you.

locking you in his home is one thing but carrying his child is another

"i'm so scared" you whimper and shove your face in your hands "jonathan, fuck, i'm so scared, i don't wanna—"

"shh, i know, i'm scared too"

"no! you don't get it! i'm scared, jonathan! i'm scared of this house, i'm scared of you, i'm scared of this baby! i don't want to raise my baby in a house with the man who kidnapped me!"

"i did not kidnap you—"

"yes you did! yes you did jonathan, you kidnapped me! let me go, i wanna go home!"

he clenches his jaw and sighs, and he takes off his glasses for a moment "there's no home for you anymore" he said. "officially, legally... you're dead. you killed yourself while you were in arkham. it was tragic really, it was after a session, you managed to grab my pen... you should have seen the way your mother cried at your funeral"

hot tears fill your eyes and you scream, and you hit his chest over and over and over

your whole body is on fire, and jonathan does nothing to move away or to stop you "i hate you! i hate you! i hate you!" you scream at him

"i still have nightmares about it" he tells you and you pant through your teeth "if only i had been more careful... i let my guard down around you. you were usually so calm, you had never mentioned any suicidal thoughts. i don't... i told your mother it was my fault, that i was careless, and let me tell you, love, your mom wouldn't let me say that. she said it wasn't anybody's fault"

"how long ago?" you sniffle "how long have i been dead, dr crane?"

"three months" he says and you wail into his neck "every sunday your mother goes and sits at your grave. she brings you flowers"

"you fucking bastard! i hate you, i hate you, i hope you die!"

"a lot of people in this town wish the same thing," jonathan said, and he calmly reached for the shackles

you kicked at him and screamed, raking your nails across his face, fighting back, even harder than you did before, and you manage to knock his glasses off

they shatter when they hit the floor, and jonathan grabs your ankle in an iron grip "stop it! you're acting like a child! and you wouldn't dare hurt rosie, would you?"

you knew that rosie was your daughter, the little bundle of love inside you, and you clenched your teeth and finally submitted as jonathan restrained you, making sure to ratchet the cuff tight around your ankle

"i hate you!" you scream again

you're so powerless against him that screaming at him is the only thing you can do

"even if you could escape" he starts. "you're dead. your bank account's been closed, your university's already shredded every document with your name on it. you have nothing left"

"i have my family"

jonathan rolls his eyes and laughs "your brother moved out of state. your mom doesn't leave her house. anyway, i declared you legally insane the week before you killed yourself. what they would see is a deranged girl who faked her death and runs home with some story about how your fucking psychiatrist kidnapped you. with what proof?"

"rosie. rosie's my proof"

jonathan shrugged "doesn't mean i kidnapped you. you're about three and half months along, you know what else happened three and a half months ago? i made a breakthrough. people are stupid and easily manipulated— you know, you're one of them!— but even more so when they're being drugged. three and a half months ago, i developed a hallucinogen that, in small does, only serves to make people susceptible to suggestion and not entirely and independently form thoughts. it's a shame, i had this old blue swetarer than i accidentally sprinkled with some of it... i wonder where it went"

"you fucking drugged me?"

"and it would really suck if the flowers that a grieving psychiatrist gave to your mother was laced with it too. baby, i have this entire thing planned. i have contingencies for contingencies. your family knows you're dead. you're never leaving me."

you sniffle as he stands up and sweeps some dark hair off of his forehead, and you weakly kick out at him again when he reaches down to caress your foot

"i hate you"

he smiles at you and it makes your blood boil "i love you too darling. take a nap, sleep off some of that anger and morning sickness, and i'll be ready to talk about it when you want to act like an adult."

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed. 

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce. 

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear? 

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.  

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”  

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it. 

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair. 

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.  

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want? 

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered. 

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled. 

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did. 

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.” 

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different. 

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long. 

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman. 

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better. 

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later. 

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help. 

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.  

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois. 

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce. 

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out. 

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong. 

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed. 

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.�� And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

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Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours