#Batman (adding to his file): Go on…

[imnotditzy]

What if a Greek Chorus acted like Captain Marvel was the lead of their play?

What if a Greek Chorus chose Captain Marvel as the focus of their narration? This could be due to a magic mess up and now they’re stuck talking about The Champion for a while, but I’d like to think that they’re just extremely bored ghosts of prestigious Chorus members who have nothing better to do. Like all of a sudden they’re just haunting Billy and narrating whatever he’e doing in such a dramatized way.

Context for the post/Brief history lesson:

(Shortened version: A Greek Chorus is a group of people who act almost like narrators, speaking about the main elements or the takeaways throughout a play. They spoke in unison to carry their voices better. They had multiple ways to communicate the takeaways, this post focuses on speech and body movement.)

(Example)

*A media example are the muses from Disney’s Hercules. (Except the members of the Greek Choir don’t sing.)

—-

History lesson, done! Now onto the post.

—

Billy: sits down on his old mattress

Chorus: The young boy strew himself along as he perched upon his withered bed. The pesky jabs of fatigue and exhaustion’s claws bore at the young one as his body ceased to relent its constant shivers. 😔

(A few of the ghosts have their hands on their foreheads like they’re about to faint, the rest are shivering like they’re a moment away from hypothermia.) Billy: I’m not even that tired, and my bed is fine???

Chorus (puts hands on their unbeating hearts): To appreciate sanity at mind, the poor youngling deluded himself. Choosing to experience the world in a more gentle perception than what has been given to him. Billy: Oh knock it off!

—

(Captain Marvel/Billy saves a cat out of a tree.)

Billy: …Did I lose them?

(The Chorus pokes theirs heads out from behind the tree)

Billy (clutching his pearls): Gah!

Chorus: In a swift moment of honorable heart, The Champion draws the feeble cat, and all of its quivering self, out of the tall and winding Maple. The daint kitten’s form consumed by the engulfing man, forgoes its fear as it slows stills in warmth.

Billy: That was so NOT cool!

(Random citizens watching Captain Marvel get spooked at absolutely nothing and hearing the echo of a group of ominous voices): Hm. Seems like the Captain’s schizophrenia has gotten worse. It’s materializing now.

—

Imagine during this catastrophe there’s a meeting at the Watchtower. Billy begging his pantheon to do something and their just like…

Atlas: Sorry Billy, there’s nothing more we can do.

Zeus: Shut up Atlas, you know no more than a grapefruit. But also there’s nothing more we can do, Billy.

Heracles: Do not fret however, this is very typical for beloved heroes!

Achilles: Yes, besides the ghost ordeal and the obvious-continuous stalking, this is very common.

Billy (growing more distressed): Not very comforting…

[cottagecore-moss-king]

Not so Artificial Intelligence Part 2

When Bruce finally managed to get the time to look at the file Danny had added to the bat computer, it was almost patrol, and the rest of the family was filling in to get ready to head out. Even Jason had shown up, but that was probably just because he was bribed by Alfred with leftovers from dinner. Bruce couldn’t really blame him, Alfred’s food was the best in the world, but he does wish that he would show up more often just to hang out with him and his siblings.

Bruce sat in the bat-chair, graciously labeled with a sticker from a recent prank by Stephanie. She had gone around and labeled everything in the bat cave, but added the bat suffix in front. It had taken forever to find most of them, but he allowed some of them to remain. 

Finding the new folder was easy, it was labeled FROM DANNY, and left in the middle of the screen. Clicking it open and sipping his fresh coffee he glanced at the first document. The folder was full of notes, pictures and videos, but all of the previews were white, green, or black. 

Bruce started to read through the document, and chocked on his coffee at the contents.

Hello Batman and family, I hope this reached you before they do. I didn’t bring this up just incase you knew and were supportive, but how you act and how contaminated you are I will assume you do not. There is a Government Law that declares any being that has come into contact with enough or creates ectoplasm as non-sentient and non-sapient, but at the same time malicious {Abbreviated the AEA}. We are to be turned over to the GIW to be experiment upon and exterminated. This is literal torture, and I have gathered as much evidence as me and my friends could without being caught. I beg you, please be careful if you decide to take these people down. From what is on here, I think that Lazarus Water is a form of corrupted ectoplasm. Also, anyone who has died and come back to life no matter what are counted, and anyone with godly blood within them. Please Please, save us. My parents are the leading “scientists” which is bullshit, and they’ve already tied me down once. I can’t go through that again. Please, Amity and the Infinite Realms need help. If you don’t help us, I’m scared we may be forced to go to war, and I don’t think you can win against the godly dead. 

Please, I’m begging you - Danny Fenton {King Phantom}

“You good B?” Nightwing asked strolling over casually. He didn’t know how to answer, how was he supposed to say ‘Oh yeah, just found out that the government calls us non-sentient\sapient, and we are to be experimented and slaughtered. Also if we don’t stop them our worlds probably going to fall and we’re all going to die a painful death.’ That’s a fun conversation to have.

Clearing his throat he finally spoke up. 

“Red Robin, Oracle, I need you to help me sort through these, Nightwing, get the Justice league ready for an emergency meeting, call the Dark too. Look at this.”

“Are we sure it’s real though? It could be a prank,” muttered Oracle, though even she doubted her words.

“Even so, the threat is there and we should certainly look through this, and that means the League needs to know.”

Batman carefully mourned the loss of a peaceful evening, and his coffee, he was going to need to leave that at the cave, he had an image to keep. 

Nightwing wasn’t smiling anymore, Robin looked concerned, and Red Hood was openly gawking at the screen.

“I’ve called the emergency meeting, you three sort these files out, I’m calling up the JLD now. Guess we should warn Constantine to bring a couple extra bottles huh.” His joke fell flat, but Bruce wonders if he should bring some alcohol and coffee with him, image be dammed. 

“Wait a second, godly blood included? They fuckn’ shittin’ on Diana!”

“That’s what your concerned about Todd? Not that the we both fall under these parameters, along with Father and the rest of the collection? I will go fetch Thomas from his chambers, he will need to suit up to follow us to the watchtower.”

“Good idea Damian, tell him to hurry up. Everyone else, in the Zeta Tube, Alfred, you can stay here if you want.” Bruce gathered his laptop and moved the file over, copying and sending it to Tims laptop as well. 

“Thank you master Bruce, I will wait for the younger masters then I will be up shortly. Run along now.” Alfred excused with a bow, but even his face was shadowed in worry and thinly veiled anger. 

“See you in a bit Alf.” Dick replied, inputting directions to the watchtower in and doing a quick headcount. 

With a flash, the dark gloomy cave was replaced by fluorescent lights and the steel infrastructure of the watchtower. Hopping off the platform another flash of light appeared, and Aquaman stepped out. The group filled out as Aquaman politely greeted them. Making their way to the nearest meeting room, Batman and Red Robin began to set things up as the gathered heroes began to sit. 

“Hey Nightwing, what’s with the meeting, you never call for an emergency meeting, Blüd rarely has big threats.” Flash mentioned as he zoomed into the meeting room, last as always, and began to dig into his waffle plate. Where he got waffles from, Bruce didn’t want to know, they weren’t serving waffles in the cafeteria today, or yesterday from leftovers. 

“This isn’t just Blüdhaven, it’s all of the united States.” He worried, checking over one final time to make sure everyone was here. A collection of the main heroes from the Justice League, they’d need to figure out who counted as ecto-contaminated before throwing people around, and Constantine, Zatanna, and Deadman were gathered to represent Justice League Dark. At least he assumed Deadman was there, as a chair was pulled out and labeled for him. At least they wouldn’t have to race to find him, they could tell him just to stay up in the watchtower if things got bad. Finally, Robin and Signal rushed in, signal tiredly rubbing his eyes and his helmet in Agent A’s hands. 

“As some of you know, a person got stuck in the batcomputer a couple months ago. And was only recently released.” Murmurs and imputed questions rose around, and Nightwing promptly ignored them. 

“They left behind a file for us, and we were looking through it and discovered many hidden crimes from the US government. They have taken and labeled a whole species and group of people as non-sentient and non-sapient, and have been experimenting and committing genocide on them.” Again, a chorus of questions and yelling went up, and Nightwing had to take a moment to pause. A glance at Martian Manhunter reviled a stone cold face, quietly waiting for more information. 

“Oh god… what is this?” 

[bonchobrick]

So I’ve seen some posts going around about a ‘Bruce adopts Danny and everyone thinks they’ll finally have a normal family member—Danny is very not normal’ and here’s my late night take on it.

Or

Danny batfam au where they batfam tries really hard to keep their vigilante ass-kicking nightlife a secret from danny because he is ‘the only normal one in the family’ this becomes a problem however when danny gets kidnapped.

——-

The batfam all work together in a deeply serious family meeting to save their boy. After hours of combining their brains together they come up with a plan that will effectively save danny from joker, kick joker’s ass, and also make them look really cool while doing it.

So they bust in that warehouse, guns blazing, explosions fading in the background, a gust of dramatic dust covers the air

Batman steps infront of the rest of the team and demands to the blurry figure somewhere in the distance, “Where is Danny!”

The dust clears–they expect bad guys pointing weapons meancingly at them, they expect a cackle of a wicked clown amused at whatever plot he had planned coming to life, they expected a terrified boy perhaps tied somewhere likely siting in a chair that joker could present to the bats as a way of taunting them.

The dust settles–they observed their surroundings looking around and realize that, there are few new facts to be added into this ‘defeat the villain, get the bro, happy ending equation’

There is decidedly no weapons being pointed at them: In fact, all of the henchmen are already knocked out and tied up.

There is decidedly no evil laughs being echoed their way: In fact, the only noise that isnt coming from them is a light scritch scratch of a pencil

And there is decidedly no terrified little boy, there is a Danny however and he seems to be doing alright–actually scratch that.

Danny is doing wonders for the situation he’s in right now: In fact–

–Danny is sitting criss cross applesauce on-top a knocked out tied up Joker doing his algebra homework

The small blue eyed boy looks up at Batman's voice and visibly brightens, “Oh hey guys, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Jason says with the utmost of comprehension, “...what.”

“So hi, I’m kinda new to gotham so sorry about beating these guys up, I think they’re villains? I dunno, anyways if you could take care of these guys while I call an uber home that’d be great.”

Danny sends them a blinding smile which would've been adorable if there weren’t a massive pile of bodies he were casually walking away from.

As Danny nears the exit he looks over his shoulder to the baffled group of vigilantes and blinks

“Oh yeah one last thing,” Danny rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Could you guys not tell the Waynes about this.”

Damian speaks up for the rest of his frozen family, albeit hesitantly, “I do think they have already been alerted of your kidnapping.”

“Oh no that's fine.” Danny starts nervously, “It's more about me being the… fighter… in this situation. I was just adopted by them and they seem really nice, I don’t want to scare them away being all grrrr im a scary monster boy and i love to hurt people argh.”

“I don’t think they’d think you're a monster.” Tim adds quietly

“Eh, tell that to my birth parents–they went psycho on me. Like evil scientist psycho, it was not as awesome as the movies make it sound, having scientists for parents.” Danny says bittersweet as he admits with a shrug

There is a moment of silence as the batfamily reevaluate the adoption file that states Danny’s family before they passed were very good people–albeit a bit excentric.

Dick blurts out, “Where did you learn to fight?”

Danny sends him an anxious chuckle, “I actually started when I was fourteen–my town always ran into some trouble so I had to step up. It’s part of the reason I moved here actually. I really don’t want anything to do with that hero vigilante life anymore…” The boy puts his hands together in a pleading motion, “So please don’t tell The Waynes!”

Bewildered at the situation as a whole they nod in a daze

The boys eyes widen at their easy agreement and he grins, “Thank you so so much! I’ve got to go now, it’s way past my curfew. but you’ll probably see me again next time I get kidnapped–I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you guys with my family bye!”

And just like that Danny slips off into the night leaving behind a family who were so sure they finally found a normal addition to their pack.

Jason sighs looking forlornly at the spot Danny had previously been standing, “You could just never pick the just semi-mentally healthy normal kids could you?”

Bruce groans pinching his the bridge of his nose

[luludeluluramblings]

Bruce Wayne's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader - Revised

A/N: I honestly have no idea where this came from. I just wanted to revise it and then I spiraled. I'm just trying to keep the creative juices flowing and attempted to add dialogue. Next thing I know, I wrote this. Maybe it's the on coming fall? Fall is my time of year. Still might make some more revisions to this and other's. Especially if I keep putting off the main story.

A/N: Consider this a test of me adding more lore to Reader. It'll help Smalltown make sense when we get there in the next two parts. Or, at least I hope it will.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Link to Original

Yandere Type: Platonic Father

Reader’s Momma is Adeline

Reader’s step-father, Daddy, is Samuel

Bruce was obsessed with Reader as soon as he saw the little bitty picture of them in that tiny hospital crib. And, for a while, that single picture was all he had of them. 

Imagine the surprise he felt to come back for a six month long mission off planet to find out that the brief relationship he had with a woman from outside of Gotham had produced something. 

He’ll admit, he hadn’t been that careful with Adeline. She was a gorgeous and charming woman, with just a hint of a wild side. She had been just a bit too sweet for his taste. Sweet enough he wasn’t too concerned about any lasting consequences. She had been quite understanding when he had ended things. Perhaps a bit too understanding. 

He had to find out through court papers that sweet Adeline had actually been more his type than he expected. Bruce didn’t expect her to even have a bitter side. But, apparently, she could be petty and spiteful, and had some damn good lawyers. 

Bruce hadn’t expected to get Adeline pregnant. He understands how it happened, and he made sure to lecture both Jason and Dick about being cautious after the whole ordeal, but he hadn’t expected it. And, he most certainly hadn’t expected Adeline to keep the whole thing under wraps before filing for full custody with no child support or visitation. 

To say Bruce was pissed was an understatement. The Wayne lawyers had dropped the ball on this matter, and subsequently been fired. They had wrongly assumed this was some revenge publicity stunt, and that Reader probably wasn’t his. 

But, he saw that little picture. That sweet face laying in the hospital cradle. Those were his mother’s eyes on that little baby. His mother’s eyes. 

Of course, Bruce tried to do damage control. Claiming he hadn’t known about the court date (which was true). But, Adeline had some damn good lawyers and had made sure to do all the court procedures out of state and out of his circle of influence. 

He did manage to get one thing. The DNA test. Not because he doubted that Reader wasn’t his. But, so Adeline couldn’t win completely. She could remarry. She could leave the birth certificate blank. She could fill their child’s head with lies about him. But, that child was his. His baby. 

Naturally, the results came back with absolute certainty. Reader was his. And, he had to fight himself to not drag Adeline back to court. 

Hell, he had debated on proposing to her. Forcing her to marry him. He was willing. Adeline was sweet and gentle, and this side of her, despite how much it was pissing him off, was quite attractive. The pettiness, the cunning, the protectiveness, weren’t exactly turn offs for him. 

Luckily, Alfred had pointed out to him that he was being irrational. Sure, it wouldn’t have been the worst idea he had, but Bruce wasn’t going to give up being Batman. Not at this time. Not yet. 

Would he really be able to handle a newborn and a pissed off wife on top of Gotham’s crime? What if something happened to them in Gotham? What if history repeats itself once more? 

Reasonable and both unreasonable questions. 

That being stated, Bruce concluded it would be best to let Reader grow up outside of Gotham. He couldn’t give up being Batman for them, but he could at least let them grow up without Gotham’s smog sinking into their bones and marrow. 

Not to say Bruce didn’t just let Reader linger in the back of his mind as a spare thought. He thought about them often. But, he was always careful. 

His enemies grew bolder and more numerous every year. 

Bruce had resigned himself to one day a year to dedicate all his time to checking on Reader. One day where he would hack anything and everything for information about his child. Adeline’s phone and social media for pictures of Reader. Milestone updates for Reader’s pediatrician. Preschool footage to see his child toddle around and make friends. Researching those friends and their parents to make sure his child was safe. One single day a year.

He nearly lost it when he found out Adeline had met another man and introduced him to Reader. It enraged him further to see the wedding pictures. To see this man holding his child in his arms with such a loving smile and pressing a kiss to their cheek while holding Adeline in his arms. 

He had done background check after background check into this man, Samuel. As much as Batman and Bruce Wayne could without arousing suspicion. 

And, he was clean. A good ol’ boy. Focused on family and minding his business. And, he was good at business.

Samuel owned a massive regional construction company. Not as wealthy nor diverse as Wayne Enterprises, but stable and steady. He had a secure income, not a negative thing written about him ever. In fact, if Bruce had met the man under different circumstances he probably would appreciate Samuel’s practicality. 

But, his first introduction to this man was from watching a video that Adeline had filmed of Reader having a birthday party. Of Reader making a wish, blowing out the candles on their birthday cake. 

“What did you wish for, baby?” He could hear Adeline’s voice in his mind. A warm loving voice that was the prelude to his heartbreaking. 

“I wanna little brother!” Bruce watches as a sweet grin forms on a frosting covered face, every time. He’s watched this video over and over. Memorizing the words. Memorizing the smile. Memorizing the sprinkles on the half eaten cake.

“Oh? What if you get a little sister?” 

“Nah, it’ll be a brother. I know it.”

“And, how do you know it, sweetpea?”

“Cause last year I wished for a Daddy and now I got one.” 

Those words are what breaks Bruce every time. Every single time. 

It should have been him being called that.

That was his child. That was his baby. He loves them. He’s done so much to keep his distance. To keep them safe. 

Now, he’s resigned to watch as another man treasures his most precious thing. Probably the only innocent thing that will ever come from his existence. 

Alfred had a hard time convincing him that this was for the best. That he needed to let it go. 

Until now, he had accepted that it was necessary. Gotham needs Batman. For a moment he was ready to give it up.

But, then Jason died. (Temporarily.) Something broke when that happened. Bruce realized if Gotham could take Jason, it would’ve taken Reader, too. 

So, even though he hates it. Even though he is so bitterly jealous of Samuel, living a peaceful life with his child. Even though he would do almost anything to hear his child call him Daddy. He keeps being Batman. 

He has to at this point. Gotham took his family, and he won’t let it take anymore. Not ever again.

[axstoria]

Clark Kent taking his boyfriend out ice skating at a local winter fair in Smallville, not expecting the billionaire to know how to stand on his own two feet on the ice.

Now, of course, he forgot that said boyfriend is Bruce Wayne, of all people. The Batman.

The Batman who can do literally anything just by watching something once.

So, while Clark is still lacing up his skates, chattering along, Bruce's gaze is focused on couples and families as they glide along the ice, taking in each moment and stride, filing it away in his mind.

He already knows how to skate—having fought Mr. Freeze so often that he actually added retractable blades to his suit—, so he shouldn't be this observant of the other people.

Clark stands up, a boyish grin on his face as he takes Bruce's hand and drags him out onto the ice, carefully steadying his poor human mate to make sure he doesn't fall.

Bruce just waves off his worry and skates away like a damn figure skater, finding an empty space and happily twirling.

Showoff.

Clark catches up with a frown, grumbling something along the lines of, "You didn't tell me you knew how to skate!"

"A man never tells all his tricks," Bruce teases back, looping his arm with Clark's, and they begin to make lazy laps around the rink like everyone else.

An hour and a half later, both are nursing warm hot chocolate to their chests, taking small sips. The beat doesn't bother Clark's tongue, but he drinks only when Bruce does, not wanting to seem glutton.

They toss the cups in the recycling after they are done, opting to wander around the several stalls set up along the streets.

When Clark shows interest in something, Bruce is already handing over cash, not even bothering to check the price tag. Anything for his love.

Clark objects stubbornly, but eventually snatches up the bags, upset that Bruce was carrying things in his presence.

They find a bench to sit on that is further away from the crowd, Clark tucked against Bruce's side, a light purr coming from his throat as the billionaire scratches his hair mindlessly.

"Now since I went to the fair with you..."

"I'm not going to a gala." Clark's voice is low and there is a hint of hesitation to it. "I report, that's all."

"Alright, alright. I guess I can't force you. Though, once we're married, it's going to happen."

Clark mutters some kind of brush-off statement, wrapping a thick arm around his boyfriend, bumping their skulls together as he happily purrs.

"I'm gonna get you rocks."

"Rocks?"

"Mhm. From whatever planet you want. I'll make you diamonds if you want them."

"That's nice, Clark. What for?"

"Our wedding. Humans give each other rocks, right?"

"Mhm."

"Kryptonians do, too."

"That's nice."

"I'm gonna get you a sapphire. Like your eyes."

"Okay, Clark."

"I love you."

Bruce pauses, a little sigh escaping him—he really did have to pick a hyperactive one, didn't he?— before he replies softly, "I love you, too."

[brucewaynehater101]

I had an AU, that at this point is more of a headcanon for me, that I thought you might enjoy because it's a nice mix of angst, Tim not thinking things are as bad as they very clearly are, and some fluff.

So it's pretty widely accepted that the Bats don't really know anything about Tim's days with Young Justice right? Like they might know one or two small facts, but they don't know that the gang blew up Mount Rushmore, any of the times the DEO tried to arrest them and drag them into Government Labs for experimentation, or that time they went to a Disco Themed Hell with Supergirl. They sure as hell don't know about any of the things that happened with Secret and Harm. Even though Tim would canonically be gone for days at a time (some of his adventures, mainly the one when they were gone for THE ENTIRE WINTER OLYMPICS) with no one noticing. One time they were in space and had enough time to not only go to Darksied's planet but spent WEEKS there and when they got back still not even Batman knows that Tim was even gone.

Anyways, all this to say. If Tim vanished for a month or two and just said he was spending time with Young Justice again while sending in case files and stuff to keep Bruce busy, I don't think anyone would notice. Nor would they notice if he suddenly switched from being Right Handed to being Left Handed and then after months of practice he goes back to being right handed. It's such a small change after all.

So here's the headcanon. On a Young Justice mission, something goes horribly wrong and Tim full on looses his hand. It's simply gone. The reason no one knows or notices is that he got a robotic replacement, a very realistic looking one like Roy Harper has, that he spent a few months learning how to work with and then went to physical therapy for it for years. It's just part of his life now and he thinks everyone knows, after all. How could they miss it? Jason has seen his palm open with a screw driver deep in his wires. Jason thought he was still tripping from fighting Scarecrow a few hours before. Not a single person outside of Cassie, Tim, Kon, Bart, Greta, Anita, Slobo, and Cissie knows that Tim is missing his right arm just below his elbow for almost 5 years.

That is until Tim has been up for 4 days straight and Dick says something about needing a hand with something and in a moment of sleep deprived brilliance, Tim takes off his hand, and throws it at Dick.

Yes! I love this AU/hc. There is a fic that kind of has this situation: "I told you about that... Didn't I?" by weewoow_070603. Jason is the one to find out, though.

I like the details you added in this AU that the fic (as far as I remember) didn't add: Tim being gone is a regular thing, the fear toxin with Jason, the months of physical therapy, etc.

I do think something as vital as this would happen to Tim, and he'd just forget to tell his family. At first, he tries to hide it. He doesn't want to deal with their fretting, the lectures, the scolding, and them getting involved. He has it handled, after all. After a while, he forgets that he should hide it and why he did in the first place. Then someone finds out, and he's confused why they don't know such a common place thing.

I'm also super glad you tied in all those YJ examples that you did. People tend to focus on the space baseball or Santa Clause (which I love those events too), so it was refreshing to see other events as examples.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

one free one

"How is Batman?" Starfire asked, looking out the window of her bedroom. The phone pinned between her shoulder and her ear as she inspected her nails.

"Awake and on the warpath, how else, Star?" Dick snorted. "But- this is a nice little bit of comeuppance."

"How?"

"The only person he really ever fucked over is back. And now she knows the truth- the whole truth. Not just the parts he wanted her to know. And I don't think he ever counted on it."

"Are you frightened?" she asked.

Dick smiled a little at the worry in her tone, "No. Not of her. Even if she's playing a long game, she wouldn't want any of us dead. Or hurt. But she's gonna fuck with us- mostly Batman for a while. I'd swear to it."

"She sounds dangerous, Dick," she warned. "Be cautious-"

"If she's like the woman I remember at all, if it is who I think it is, our biggest danger is Batman getting his feeings hurt.

____________________________

Bruce watched the airport security footage and frowned.

It was quiet. Somone knew who he was. And yet. There were no demands. Not one. So what was the point? They'd saved him. A criminal would have seized the opportunity. Even a citizen might have if-

He dismissed the thought shaking his head.

And again reviewed the evidence. He'd been hidden, but Dick had been able to find him. Stitches- done in a hurry but not rushed. Steady hands. The cowl was left, not taken as a trophy. Placed. Almost like a taunt. He remembered the fights before.

He remembered collapsing.

But he didn't remember who was the one who found him.

"Master Bruce," Alfred sighed, "you haven't left the study all day."

"We're at risk of exposure, Alfred," Bruce said looking up from his files. "If that happens-"

"It may not be that dire," Alfred mused.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" he hummed, "Miss Y/N called. She told me she's on her way home."

"Y/N?" Bruce demanded. "Alfred I told you-"

"Come now, Master Bruce," Alfred tutted, "Your little falling out was ages ago. Surely afterall this time-"

"Absolutely not! Not now! If she sets foot in this house-"

"Very well sir," Alfred said, "No need to yell." Or stomp your foot, Alfred added silently. He didn't know WHAT that argument had been about all those years ago- but he did know that one way or another, Bruce was going to apologize. No one who was blameless acted LIKE THAT.

[lady-ace]

FIC WIP BE UPON THEE

(Captain Marvel x Pokémon, which i'm planning on putting on AO3 once i'm done with like, 5 chapters or so. This is the WIP of the first chapter.)

Captain Marvel is the brand new Fawcett hero. The man simply showed up one day, and started helping the community, be it with fighting crime or the most mundane things, like helping children find their parents when lost or help a person cross the street. He wasn’t as famous as Batman or Superman, and he even doubted he’d even been heard of outside of Fawcett. He was still very new, after all.

When flying around on patrol, Captain Marvel and Tawny — Who was on the ground, following along — spotted two men cornering an elderly woman in an alley, knives in hand, poised to attack.

“Pass em’, grandma!” One of them ordered, bringing the knife closer to her threateningly. “Give us the necklace and no one gets hurt!” The other thug exclaims, getting closer to rip the necklace off the lady’s neck altogether.

“No, please!” The senior pleaded, “It was a gift from my grandson!” She added, clutching her necklace close to her protectively, clearly close to tears and panic evident on her voice.

Marvel looked at Tawny as the Raikou growled and went into the alley, passing and startling the robbers as he stood in defense of the lady, growls coming out like crackles of thunder, loud against the silence of the alley.

“Shit!” the first thug yelped in surprise, “Is that the hero Raikou?!” the second one asked, taking a step back in fear of the large feline in front of him. “I thought it was a myth!”

Captain Marvel slowly floated down to land alongside Tawny, standing tall and opposing the two criminals, who were looking ready to bolt, shaking hands reaching to the Pokéballs on their belts.

“Tawny,” The hero called, nodding at the Pokémon, “Electroweb.”

At the command, electricity charged all around the legendary Pokémon, surging forwards as two webs that wrapped around the two criminals, shocking them to make them drop their weapons, before staying dormant, only serving to keep them both still.

After checking on the restrained criminals, Marvel turned to Tawny. “Good job!” he smiled, petting the Pokémon’s head, who trilled back proudly at the praise, happy with his work well done.

After the brief congratulations and pets, Marvel turned around to check on the elderly woman. 

“Thank you, thank you! This necklace is oh so dear to me, I can't bear to even think of losing it.” The senior babbled, voice full of relief and a big smile upon her face.

The Captain smiled back at her, “No need to thank me, Ma’am. I’m just glad you’re safe.” he responded, before being lightly headbutted by his partner Pokémon, trying to get his attention.

“Yes?” he asked, confused, as the pokémon walked to the thugs restrained on the ground, referencing them, their fallen weapons and Pokéballs with a paw. Realization dawned on the champion, “Oh! Them! Right, right.” he noted.

“Ma’am, I need to go deliver those men to the police. Stay safe, alright?” at her nod, he grabbed both restrained thugs, still struggling in the electric webs, and took flight, being mindful of the Pokéballs still on them. He absentmindedly noted that Tawny took both of the dropped knives before he followed him. 

──────────────────────────

Today was a calm day in the Justice League watchtower. Batman was researching some cases and compiling files, with his Noivern by his side, while Flash’s Jolteon raced by, chasing Green Lantern’s Reuniclus.

The Jolteon, happily yipping after the other Pokémon, stopped once they both reached the recreation room. The large TV was on, displaying the news.

“Hello, good morning, Reporter Jessica speaking, reporting from Fawcett city.” the reporter started. Behind her was a large person who was talking to the police. The person didn’t seem thrilled at all to be talking to them. “This morning a criminal duo was apprehended by Captain Marvel, the newest Fawcett hero.” She said, stepping aside and letting the camera focus on the tall person — Presumably, Captain Marvel — talking to the officers. She moved again, the camera focus going right back at her. 

“We are hoping to get an exclusive interview with him, and get more information on the crime.” Jessica says pointedly. She was not too close to where Marvel and the officers stood, but with the subtle raise of her voice, it was obvious she was heard. Especially when the Captain seemed to beam out of nowhere, saying rushed goodbyes to the officers, waiting patiently as the news crew moved in.

“Hello, Captain Marvel. Could you explain to us what happened earlier today?” The reporter politely asked, raising her microphone near the hero. He seemed somewhat relieved, or more accurately, less on edge talking to the curious reporter and cameraman than he was talking to the officers.

“Of course!” The hero said with a bright smile. The news banner silently changed from ‘EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH NEW FAWCETT HERO AND LEGENDARY PARTNER’ to a blank banner. “While on patrol today, me and Raikou,” Upon being mentioned, a Raikou showed up, who was previously out of the camera’s view. The hero seemed surprised too, “Oh, hi.” He cut himself off briefly to greet his Pokémon, who simply let out a chirp at the camera. “As I was saying, me and Raikou were on patrol when those two,” Marvel pointed behind him. The camera follows where he points, ending up on the two criminals, handcuffed and inside the back of a police car. “Decided to try and rob an old lady.” 

The reporter feigned a gasp, and proceeded to ask more questions, some very unrelated to the matter at hand. —“Could you tell us if you’re Kryptonian, Marvel?” and “Were there Raikou on your planet?” couldn’t have anything to do with an older lady getting saved from two robbers, after all—The TV channel’s banner now read “NEW FAWCETT HERO SAVES OLD LADY FROM ARMED ROBBERY, NEW SUPERMAN?”.

While the Pokémon watched, mesmerized by the seemingly random appearance of a legendary Pokémon — A caught one! Can you believe it? — on live TV.

The Jolteon and the Reuniclus started chattering to each other back and forth, communicating with wobbles and barks. The excited Pokémon chatter attracted Noivern’s attention a room away, who went to check it out.

Upon arrival, and seeing what all the noise was about, Noivern quickly returned to Batman, the normally quiet and composed Pokémon suddenly chirping rather loudly to get the man’s attention.

[little-pondhead]

Some fic because I love your au, Fenton is gender brainrot, and little baby dan cracks me up. Full disclosure, my only familiarity with DC is DP crossover fanfic, and a Batman movie I fell asleep during. (If I had a better grasp on the characters I would totally write more :(( i love interactions) also sorry for the weird spacing. Idk why tumblr did that

~~~~~~~~

There was an empty cardboard box on the table of the Justice League’s main conference room. Taped on the top flap, next to a doodle of Fenton’s logo, was a jump drive.

Heaving a sigh, Batman plugged it in and pulled up his screen on the projector. The drive, which was named “little baby dan’s evil playtime”, contained two files; WATCH_ME_FIRST.mp4 and its-a-secreeeet.pdf. He clicked on the video file, and immediately the projector filled with a blurry close-up of Fenton’s goggles.

After a moment of fiddling with the camera, Fenton stepped back, giving a cheery wave. His lab coat and goggles were a pastel pink, which was new. “Heeeeya, Bats! Whoever else is there! If you’re watching this, you probably weren’t there when I dropped the box off, aaand it’s probably empty.”

He clapped his hands together gleefully. “And Connie, if you’re there, this is payback for cussing around my daughter.” Batman was instantly relieved that Constantine wasn’t on base. Hopefully the situation wouldn’t require Constantine’s expertise. (Or any of the Justice League Dark. Fenton seemed determined to drive them all to an early grave with his casual refusal to acknowledge the supernatural air around him.)

“Now, as you’re all heroes, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the whole,” Fenton paused for a moment, as if searching for the proper words. “”You ate a burger on a Tuesday or something equally inane, and it kickstarted a series of events that led to you going insane and evil and murdering 95% of the Earth’s population and now you must fight your evil alternate self, because your time-controlling cryptid Peepaw said so,” shtick, so I’ll skip the backstory. Say hi to Dan!” Fenton grabbed the camera, and Batman quickly jotted down several notes about the concerning number of things the boy had just said.

The camera swiveled around to show Nightingale, holding a strange beast in a manner that reminded Batman of an “elongated cat meme” Nightwing had shown him when he was still a Robin. The creature bared a maw full of razor sharp fangs at the camera. Nightingale adjusted her grip to hold the creature’s paw and make it wave, which evoked a deep growl.

“Haha, he’d kill me if I did that. Dan likes Nightingale much more than he likes me.”

“Because the worst she has ever done is attempt to shoot me.”

The camera had moved, so Batman couldn’t visually confirm that the deep voice had come from the creature, but the voice didn’t match any of Fenton’s previously revealed companions. “Yeah yeah, her aim sucked back then.” Fenton gave the camera a toothy grin that was only slightly less unnerving than the creature’s. “Dan’s not technically me, he’s much more like Dani, actually, but the world would probably end again if we left him with his other... What did you call him?” Fenton glanced offscreen.

“Bane of my accursed existence.”

Fenton chucked. “The other half responsible for his existence.” Batman added more notes to his file. “So, yeah, Clocky left him with us for a bit to help along his rehab. But a certain psychologist-in-training I know says that repressing rage isn’t healthy, and even without a lot of his powers, he can wipe out most of a city in- what, an hour? We tested it. It was around an hour.”

Everyone present shared a look of deep concern. As if able to see their reaction, Fenton quickly held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry! Clocky reset it. Approximately zero people have died from Dan in this timeline.”

“Yet.” Came a furious rumble from off-screen.

“Yes, you’re very scary.” They heard Nightingale coo.

Fenton laughed. “Yeah, we need him- and all of you, -out of our hair for a bit while we concoct more evil plans, and you’re all the least likely to die to him, so you get to babysit! Thanks!”

He reached to shut off the camera before pausing and turning away. “Foley! Which of the furries is the one who really likes animals?”

“Man, do you realize how that sounds out of context?” Foley laughed. “I think Tim said it’s the little one. Damian?”

Fenton nodded and turned back to the camera. “Don’t let Damian try to adopt Dan. Or anyone. Dan will bite their hands off. I mean it!” To emphasize his point, he removed one of his hands.

Batman sighed and added “ability to remove limbs” to a list of Fenton’s powers.

“I’ll include a list of “tasks”” Fenton’s disembodied hand made finger quotes, “we gave Dan to keep him occupied. There’s some at the bottom for you guys. They’re mostly just blatant abuse of his powers for the sake of fun and science. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him mark things off the list and add notes on how it goes. Or you can do it. Or I can steal your cameras. Your choice.”

He thought for a second. “I think you’re supposed to leave, like, pizza money or something, but I don’t think you can get pizza delivered to space. Anyway, thanks for letting me blab your ears off while Dan’s probably committing war crimes for twelve minutes. For your sake, I hope he inherited my interest in space. Good luck! Thanks for babysitting!”

Waving with his still detached hand, Fenton ended the video. Batman closed it and opened the PDF as the few other members present murmured amongst themselves. Most of the pages were filled with a curling script Batman didn’t recognize. The fourth page had a huge, bolded header, reading JP TASKS.

The door opened and shut in half a second as the Flash burst in. “Superman!” The speedster wailed. “I can’t get this thing off of me!”

The Flash waved his arm around, sending small droplets of blood flying as he tried to dislodge the creature sinking his teeth into the speedster’s arm. Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his cowl as Superman quickly lent his super strength in attempt to pry the creature’s jaw open. Dan didn’t budge.

Well, he could certainly see the family resemblance been Fenton, Dani, and Dan. Shaking his head, he turned back to the list.

Task 1: Find Dan. He’s probably attacking someone.

He highlighted the text and crossed it out. This was going to be a long shift.

[Anon, this is me crying over the wonderful gift you have given me. You bastard.]

---

"Do you think Fenton's regeneration powers extend to his..." Green Lantern frowned, trying to remember the word the kid had used but coming up blank. "I dunno. But do you think if we cut off little Dan here, he'll heal back up with no problem?" He gestured helplessly to the scene in front of him. Flash was still screeching about the beast on his arm, and now Superman and Wonder Woman were trying to pry him off. Batman was standing to the side, silently bemoaning the lack of quiet. He just wanted one peaceful shift. Just one. Please.

"I'd like to see you try, hero. And I'm not little." Dan spoke, startling all of them. His grip on Flash's arm tightened, making the speedster squeal before releasing the man and spitting out a mouthful of his blood. Batman noticed that his mouth didn't move despite the clearly spoken words. In fact, when Dan closed his mouth, it was like he didn't have one at all.

"So you do speak!" Superman marveled.

"Of course I do. I am not unintelligent, unlike you lot."

Despite his pain, Flash still made sounds of protest that everyone promptly ignored.

Superman flushed. "I just wasn't sure. It was hard to tell in the video."

"Ah, yes. The video that the Fenton menace sent you. Was there a note for me in the flash drive?"

"Uh, no." In one of his less finer moments, Green Lantern stuttered over his words and moved in front of Batman, obviously lying. Dan merely growled and flew through both men, heading straight for the giant monitor. Batman barely suppressed a shiver. Density shifting? Might as well add it to the list. He could see Martian Manhunter, who was in the back of the room, tilt his head at the display.

Dan ignored the room as he used his entire body to manipulate the computer mouse and scrolled back up to the top of the page. Staring intently at the scribbles no one could make out, the heroes could do nothing but shoot each other nervous and confused glances. More than a few of them jumped when Dan chuckled deeply. Honestly, his tiny body was at complete odds with his baritone voice.

"Maybe rehab will be fun if he's letting me do this." Dan sneered, flashing their reflections a sharp fang. No one wanted to ask what exactly he was in rehab for. The little beast turned his gaze to Batman. "You are the one called Batman, who rules the cursed city, correct?" The dark hero nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. "Excellent. You will be my chaperone for now, just as Fenton decreed it. Good luck, mortal man. Pray, I do not destroy your home a second time."

Without any time to unpack that conversation, Dan promptly disappeared from view. Some blinking text caught his attention, and Batman scrolled back down to the English text, glancing at the next few items on the list.

Task 2: Do not let Dan read his portion of this letter until you have a way to track him. There is no containing him.

Task 3: Keep him with a chaperone at all times. (If you can)

Task 4: Do not let Dan back into Gotham unless you're fine with a sudden decrease in the clown population.

Task 5: Take him for a walk in Death Valley. He likes hunting lizards.

Task 6: Make sure he goes down for his 2pm nap every day.

Task 7: He'll ask for it, but do not give him any burgers for mealtime. It upsets his stomach.

Task 8: Dan gets ONE(1) sweet after dinner before brushing his teeth. Those green pop rocks Batman always carries will do fine; he likes those. :)

A sudden alarm blared from his wristwatch, making Batman tear his eyes away from the screen, indicating an emergency at Arkham. This time, Batman actually sighed out loud. There was more to the list, but right now, he really needed to find their new charge before he killed the Joker, from the sound of it.

[noxioustoxins]

Food for Thought - JayTim - Batman

Jason just finished making pasta, a meal full of carbs and protein, with only enough sauce to make all the ingredients stick together, just the way Tim liked it. He wouldn’t eat it otherwise. He added some extra sauce to his bowl and left the kitchen.

“Any progress?” Jason asked, sitting next to Tim on the couch, mouth full of pasta and fork dripping with his properly sauced food.

Tim’s eyes flickered over, before almost immediately returning to the computer

Hook.

“The budget is almost illegible. It’s definitely on purpose but I don’t have proof of which shareholder is responsible for it.”

Tim has been chasing a shareholder through botched paperwork for a few weeks. It was a string of issues that they were not used to. Most situations they came up against could be dealt with through well-placed violence, but this was a game of cat and mouse. Which if it were an actual game, Tim might have enjoyed. But as it stands, he has a shareholder stealing money from the company and botching projects for insurance scams. The difficulty Tim was running into, the reason the investigation has been going on so long, has been because corporate scum bags fight in paper work and contracts. So, Tim has had to dig his way through red tape, new and old contracts, current budget meeting and previous budget meetings, all to match up numbers that claim to have been lost in the shuffle.

There have been a few of his ‘board of old men’, Tim’s words, that he had cleared. Each cleared shareholder lightened the load, but sniffing out one specific pompous asshole at Wayne Enterprises was taking its time; and a toll on Tim. He hasn’t been able to take time to patrol as Red Robin, and his team have had to manage a few cases without him at the helm because of the near quadrupled amount of paperwork he’s had his nose in lately. It was making him antsy, his mind had been busy, but Jason could feel Tim’s body aching to move. The way he shifted constantly lately, or got up just to walk around, the lessened patrols were definitely getting to him. When he had been able to go out, he wasn’t even working on investigations, and had taken to the role of simply beating assholes senseless.

But Tim wouldn’t let anyone help. His pride wouldn’t let him.

“So, no progress?” Jason said through another mouth full of sloppy, wet pasta.

“Not in this specific file yet,” Tim sighed, “but I was able to eliminate one more suspect today.”

Tim began chewing on his thumb nail, eyes still glued to his computer screen.

“Well,” Jason grunted as he stood up, “you have like, three extra jobs at WE now, so no one can blame you for it taking time.”

“I blame me,” Tim grumbled, “I have to wait for every new edition of every new contract and every new budget, and then having studied those, I have to wait for the board meeting, which I then spend most of that time trying to catch someone slipping, but these guys lie, cheat, and steal through their whole lives. It just feels like the progress is so slow its non-existent.” Tim pulled the laptop into his lap, slouched against the couch and scrolled through another page of gibberish on his computer that seemed to make sense to him.

“Of course it does. You’re climbing a wall of old man greed with bricks made out of million-dollar budgets and legal jargon.” Jason spoke up louder, so his voice could be heard from the kitchen.

He made his way back to the living room, taking a bite of pasta with not enough sauce, before sitting back down and staring intensely at the computer. Tim looked over at him as he entered.

Line.

“Wait.” Jason said, grabbing the computer off Tim’s lap, and putting the pasta where the laptop had been.

“What?” Tim said, leaning in. Jason held up his hand to pause Tim, and scanned the document on the computer.

“Nothing.” Jason said, looking over at Tim, then at the bowl, and back at Tim with a smile.

It was boring, and Jason had to reread every line twice for any of them to make sense. Beside him, Tim took a bite of too dry pasta.

Sinker.

Tim looked down at the bowl of pasta, made with just enough sauce for everything to stick together and extra parmesan cheese, just the way he liked it.

Tim’s glare meant nothing, as it was followed by an eye roll and a small smile. Jason closed the laptop, and Tim moved closer, another forkful of pasta in his mouth, once again reminded that, yes, he did need to eat.

[goblinhoursinsomniaramblings]

I Know Those Eyes Pt 2

why yes i am continuing this

“You’re certain.”

Batman’s words were clipped. Less a question than a threat of consequences. Tim nodded, no hesitation.

“I’d have to have access to a blood or skin sample for 100% confidence, but… yeah. As of 1:23 A.M. this morning, we have confirmed visuals of Lex Luthor and Damian Wayne, alive and mobile, in downtown Gotham City.”

He brought up images of the hotel.

“Hotel Spillane, originally used by the Falcone family, mainly used by the successors of their original business interests. Several legal and executive representatives of one of these interests arrived over the course of the night and previous evening, with Luthor and… Damian being the last to arrive.”

Keep it together, Tim.

“Oracle looked into Luthor’s new identity. It’s so obvious I am actually mad. He’s backstopped a whole life story as Lex Luthor’s estranged twin brother, Lionel V. Luthor, going by the nickname Vlad. Sole inheritor of all Lex Luthor’s assets.”

He brought up the images on file for ‘Lionel’ as well as his own analysis of the footage.

“The confusing part is what he did after inheriting–he has been spending a lot of money on sustainability research, alternative fuels, updated emergency service systems, things like that. As far as I can tell he wants to make premium versions of those things and sell them for a profit, but is playing the long game by flooding the board with cheap goods while gaining good PR.”

He called up the files on VladCo.

“The rest he used to get a tech startup running, VladCo. Apparently he’s interested in ‘standardizing the nonstandard’, whatever that means, but he hasn’t really made anything for the mass market yet. The closest we can find is he’s been making something classified for the U.S. government.”

He took a shaky breath and called up what he had on Damian. He felt Bruce’s pained, shocked exhale more than he heard it, but it was there all the same. So… there really wasn’t any doubt.

“Daniel Summers. On paper he’s 24, was raised in Chicago, and while he’s acting as Luthor’s bodyguard we couldn’t find any official records of him being employed in that capacity. Probably because Oracle was only checking every thirty seconds and his birth certificate didn’t show up on any records until just before they arrived at the hotel.”

He started counting off on his fingers.

“So, 1: whoever is adding them to the system isn’t done yet. 2: they don’t actually care if they get caught. 3: they, very specifically, don’t care if we catch them.”

“You’re saying he’s taunting us.”

“It’s looking–hang on, Oracle says there’s a situation developing.”

One quick shortcut and video of a meeting room popped up on the screen. ‘Lionel’ was smugly facing down his very angry looking investors and their representatives. Suddenly, each of them seemed to calm down. Unnaturally fast, and in unison, with a very particular dull look to their eyes. Tim felt a chill down his spine.

Mind control. Lex Luthor was a meta now, and he had mind control! No wonder Damian hadn’t reached out–

But why? What did he still need Damian for? Unless…

Oh.

He met Batman’s eyes. The taunting, the lack of discretion, finding his first victims in Gotham City.

This was a hostage situation.

***

“You know, badger, you’re perfectly free to walk away from this part of the plan.”

“No, I promised. … still really creepy to watch, though.”

All the papers were signed, all the signatories overshadowed. Now all they had to do was get out of range.

Danny frowned as he saw the receptionist reach for the phone. Right, spy games. Someone was probably supposed to give her a code word when the meeting was over–

Her eyes went glassy, hand freezing around the phone, and seriously that would never stop being creepy to watch. Still, non-violent solution, he’d take it.

As they approached their car, Danny scanned the quiet, ominously lit street. Not for obvious cameras–he knew for a fact Oracle would never allow one to be obvious–but for the best possible angle a camera could have. Eliminating the ones that would have already been used, that left–

He had thought about this moment. How he would give some signal to let them know he was back. That he had been thinking of them.

… Tt. Another time. Too many layers to communicate through, too little space to do so. His gaze had lingered with a purpose, he could only hope that would communicate that Damian was still a part of him too.

For now, that would have to be enough.

***

-major reveal of this chapter: ‘Lex’ has mind control powers

-lol damian/danny is the ghost king, vlad holding him hostage? ha no

-yeah they did not plan the hostage thing but vlad is gonna jump on it with both feet later. like he’s not gonna take credit for it, amirite

-some chapters will be longer. some will be shorter. the main thing is still vibes

-yes, the last little bit is going to make things so much worse with the bats

-why Summers? anything winter-related would be too on the nose, and using a name associated with a very different comic book universe felt appropriate

-i've been a touch stressed so this got put on the backburner. yes, because current events

@hinari @blankliferain @grimdarling69

[storyscribeforthesentiment]

the detective & the dark knight | chapter 4

Summary: Detective Marie Manning, investigating a series of brutal m*rders in Gotham, crosses paths with the mysterious Batman. As they work together, their mutual respect turns into a deep, passionate bond. Amidst danger and corruption, their unlikely partnership evolves into a profound love, forever changing their lives in Gotham’s dark corners.

Pairing: Batman/Bruce Wayne x f! main character

Author’s note: Prepare for soft Bruce getting in his feels over Marie. They go on a date, Marie overthinks their relationship (bestie needs to chill), and she nearly gives Batman a heart attack when she puts herself in danger. This is my favorite chapter so far! 

Word count: 6k

Warnings/tags: mentions of murder, mentions of police bribes, fighting

Marie’s apartment was bathed in the golden glow of early evening as she moved through the space, nerves buzzing under her skin. She adjusted a stack of case files on her coffee table, then glanced at her reflection in the window. Her satin dress shimmered in the light, and her long, dark hair framed her face in soft waves. She felt vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with her career or the streets of Gotham.

A sharp buzz from the doorbell made her jump, and she nearly upset the precarious pile of files. Taking a steadying breath, she made her way to the door and opened it.

Bruce Wayne stood there, effortlessly polished in a dark suit and overcoat. He held a bouquet of tulips in one hand and a warm smile that made her stomach flip.

“These are for you,” he said, his voice rich and easy.

Marie blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. “Oh,” she said, then quickly recovered. “Thank you, Bruce. They’re beautiful.” She stepped aside. “Come on in.”

Bruce handed her the flowers and stepped into the apartment, his sharp gaze sweeping the space. His lips quirked into a smile when he spotted her tabby cat sprawled across a pile of case files.

“Nice setup,” he remarked, nodding toward the feline. “Your assistant looks very committed to the job.”

Marie laughed, setting the tulips in a vase she’d grabbed from the kitchen counter. “Marbles? He’s more of a supervisor. Mostly sleeps on the job and occasionally demands payment in tuna.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Though he seems to like you. That’s rare.”

Marbles had sauntered up to Bruce and was now weaving between his legs, purring loudly. Bruce bent down, giving the cat an obliging scratch behind the ears. “What can I say? Animals and I have a thing.”

Marie smirked as she adjusted the tulips. “If Marbles approves, you must be okay.”

Bruce straightened, his expression light but his eyes intent. “Glad to know I’ve passed the test.”

Marie grabbed her coat, sliding it on. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

Bruce opened the door for her, stepping aside to let her pass. “Quiet dinner at this little Italian spot I like. Great pasta, cozy vibe—not too fancy.”

As they stepped into the hallway, he added, “Any allergies I should know about? Gluten? Shellfish?”

Marie shot him a sly grin as she walked ahead. “Just one—dull conversation.”

Bruce laughed, catching up to her. “Noted. Guess I’ll have to bring my A-game tonight.”

Marie turned slightly, looking at him with mock seriousness as she locked the door. “Good, because my standards are sky-high, Wayne. Don’t disappoint me.”

—-------------------------------

The restaurant was a world away from the chaos of Gotham. Low, warm lighting cast shadows over brick walls, and the murmur of soft jazz and clinking glasses filled the intimate space. Their table sat tucked into a quiet corner, a candle flickering between them.

“This is nice,” Marie said as she glanced around. “Very not-Gotham.”

Bruce poured her a glass of wine, his movements unhurried. “Sometimes, you need to leave the noise behind.” He raised his glass. “To new beginnings and quieter nights.”

Marie clinked her glass against his, her smile soft. “I’ll drink to that.”

They sipped in companionable silence for a moment before Bruce leaned back, studying her with quiet curiosity. “So, Detective Manning, what made you want to become a cop?”

Marie blinked at him, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. “Wow, coming in hot with the deep stuff, huh? No small talk, like—what’s your favorite pizza topping?’”

Bruce smirked, unfazed. “Hey, you’re the one who said you don’t like boring conversations. Might as well go straight for the meaningful questions.”

Marie shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. “Alright, fair enough. But you asked for it.” She took a moment, her expression shifting to something more reflective. “It was my dad, actually. He was a detective. The best one I knew.”

Bruce leaned forward slightly, listening intently.

Marie smiled softly. “He was everything I wanted to be—brave, dedicated... a little stubborn.”

She glanced at Bruce, her smirk teasing. “Okay, very stubborn.”

Bruce laughed, the sound warm and genuine.

Marie’s smile lingered for a moment before it faded. Her tone softened as she said, “He loved his job, even when it took everything out of him.” She hesitated, then added quietly, “He was killed on the job when I was twelve.”

Bruce’s expression softened, his voice low. “I’m sorry, Marie.”

She shrugged, though her eyes glimmered with emotion. “It’s been a long time, but... it sticks with you, you know? He used to say the badge was more than just a job; it was a way to leave Gotham a little better than you found it. That stuck with me, too.”

Marie hesitated, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Whenever I feel like this city is just a lost cause—a shithole too far gone—I think about his grit, his determination. He didn’t quit, no matter how bad things got. So, I don’t either.”

Bruce didn’t respond right away, though her words settled heavily in his chest. He knew that feeling all too well—the constant battle against hopelessness and the drive to keep fighting anyway. It resonated deeply, more than he could say.

Bruce nodded instead, his respect for her deepening. “Sounds like he’d be proud of you. You’re doing exactly what he believed in.”

Marie glanced at him, her smile flickering back. “Thanks.”

A few beats of silence passed before she laughed softly. “Wow, I didn’t think we’d be diving into my dead dad before we’d even ordered an appetizer.”

Bruce chuckled, the weight of the moment easing.

He leaned forward, a playful glint in his eye. “Your turn. Ask me something.”

Marie grinned, leaning back. “Okay, billionaire. What do you do for fun? And I mean real fun, not hosting galas or shaking hands with politicians.”

Bruce chuckled, feigning shock. “You mean there’s more to life than schmoozing with Gotham’s elite?”

“Call me crazy,” she said, her lips curving. “But yeah.”

He considered her question, swirling his wine. “I like to stay active—boxing, running, anything that clears the head. I also dabble in adrenaline-pumping activities.”

Marie raised an eyebrow. “Adrenaline junkie, huh? That’s a dangerous game.”

Bruce’s smile turned enigmatic. “Life’s more interesting when you take a few risks.”

She laughed, reaching for her fork as their entrees arrived. “I’ll take your word for it. My job already provides enough adrenaline for a lifetime.”

“So, Marie,” Bruce said, leaning back in the booth and casually draping his arm along the backrest behind her. The movement was natural, almost imperceptible, but the subtle warmth of his arm so close to her sent a jolt through her senses. She had to refocus as he continued, swirling his glass casually, “tell me about your first days on the force. I bet they were something.”

Marie chuckled, though her expression shifted as she thought back. “Oh, they were something, all right. My first big case was a robbery-turned-shooting. I remember stepping over blood and broken glass, thinking, ‘This is not what they trained us for in the academy.’”

Bruce tilted his head slightly, his fingers brushing the back of the booth just a fraction closer to her shoulder. “Trial by fire.”

“Pretty much,” she said with a wry smile. “But the real wake-up call? A few months in, I was chasing a suspect down an alley. I tripped—classic rookie move—and suddenly, I was staring down the barrel of his gun. I froze.”

Bruce’s eyes darkened, the casual demeanor slipping for a moment as concern flashed in his expression. “What happened?”

Marie exhaled, forcing herself to focus on the story instead of the faint warmth radiating from his arm. “Backup arrived just in time. Scared the guy off before he could pull the trigger. But it shook me, you know? Made me realize how easy it is to feel completely exposed in this job. And how fast everything can go sideways.”

Bruce studied her, his gaze steady and intent. “That’s terrifying. But you kept going.”

Marie nodded, her smile faint as her gaze drifted to the glass in her hand. “Yeah, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about quitting after that. It’s hard to face your own limits like that. There were a lot of nights I wondered if I was cut out for this.”

Bruce’s voice softened, the concern in his tone mirroring the unspoken emotion in his expression. “And now?”

She hesitated, her lips quirking slightly. “Now… it’s different. I mean, Gotham’s still a dumpster fire most days, but recently, I’ve had some help. Someone who’s… made me feel safer out there.”

Bruce shifted almost imperceptibly, his fingers brushing the backrest again as his heart skipped a beat. “Someone?”

“Yeah,” Marie said carefully, her words measured. “A... partner of sorts. Not your typical officer. He’s—well, let’s just say he’s unconventional. But he’s good at what he does, and it’s made a difference. I don’t feel like I’m alone anymore.”

Bruce leaned back slightly, his gaze steady but probing, as though testing her words for deeper meaning. “Sounds like this... partner is lucky to work with you.”

Marie laughed softly, the tension easing as she shook her head. “Not sure he’d say that. But thanks, Wayne.”

Bruce held her gaze, his expression calm, though his thoughts were anything but. She felt safer on the job because of him—because of Batman. The quiet pride that surged through him was a rare and unfamiliar sensation, one he usually kept buried beneath the weight of his dual life.

She didn’t know, couldn’t know, that he was the reason she felt safer. But in this moment, sitting so close to her, the faintest brush of her shoulder within reach of his arm, Bruce allowed himself a fleeting sense of satisfaction. He was her protector, even if she didn’t realize it was him. And that knowledge—however bittersweet—was enough to steady him, for now.

—-------------------------------

The cool night air bit at their cheeks as they stepped out of the restaurant and into Gotham’s ever-present hum of chaos—distant sirens, honking horns, and the low murmur of conversations drifting out from shadowed corners.

Bruce’s hand rested lightly at Marie’s back as they made their way to the nearby subway station. He had offered to have his driver pick them up, but Marie didn’t mind the subway ride.

She couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Bruce as they descended the cracked concrete steps into the station. He moved with the same ease and confidence he carried everywhere, though the faint furrow in his brow gave him away. The subway wasn’t exactly his usual mode of transportation.

The station was as grim as ever, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, casting flickering shadows on the graffitied walls. The floor was slick with something she didn’t want to think too hard about, and the air carried the faint stench of dampness and despair. Bruce didn’t flinch, his jaw set, his sharp gaze scanning the platform as though expecting trouble to materialize out of thin air.

When the train screeched into the station, its brakes groaning in protest, they stepped into the nearest car. The seats were worn, their vinyl surfaces patched with duct tape, and the overhead lights flickered like they were struggling to stay alive.

Marie grabbed the metal bar above her, her fingers brushing Bruce’s as he did the same. The train lurched forward with a jolt, and she stumbled slightly before steadying herself. Bruce shifted closer, his other hand resting lightly at her hip to keep her upright.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, just for her.

“Yeah,” she said, glancing up at him. He was so close now, his broad frame towering over her, shielding her from the rest of the grimy car. His suit jacket brushed her shoulder, and she caught the faint scent of his cologne—clean, woodsy, and warm.

She was used to being alone on the subway, surrounded by strangers, her body tense and her fingers clutching pepper spray in her pocket. She’d investigated too many cases of subway robberies and assaults to ever feel safe on it. But with Bruce beside her, his quiet vigilance making her feel strangely secure, the usual tension melted away.

The train rattled forward, shaking over uneven tracks. A few passengers sat slumped in their seats, avoiding eye contact, while others stood in silence, swaying with the train’s motion. 

Marie let her eyes drift to Bruce’s hand on the overhead bar, his long fingers curled around the metal.

“Be honest,” she said, her tone teasing. “Have you ever had to take the subway before? Or is this a first for Gotham’s golden boy?”

Bruce’s expression softened, a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes. “I used to ride it with my dad when it first opened. Wayne Enterprises built it, back when my father believed Gotham’s subway could be a symbol of progress—a way to connect the city.”

Marie tilted her head to look up at him, surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on a distant point, somewhere far from the grime-streaked windows. “He believed it would bring the city together. Give everyone a chance to move forward, no matter where they were coming from.”

She followed his gaze, taking in the flickering lights and cracked tiles of the station as they passed. “He wouldn’t believe what it’s turned into,” Bruce added quietly, his tone tinged with something like regret.

Marie glanced at him, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “Maybe. But as long as it gets the job done, it’s still helping the city, right?”

Bruce turned to her, his intense blue eyes meeting hers. For a moment, the clatter of the train seemed to fade, and all she could feel was the warmth of his presence. “I guess you’re right,” he said, his voice softening. “I like your optimism.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, her grip tightening on the overhead bar as the train screeched to a halt at their stop.

Together, they stepped out onto the platform, the cold air rushing in through the open doors. Bruce stayed close as they walked the short distance to her building, his hand brushing hers as they moved through the quiet, shadowed streets.

When they reached the door of her apartment building, she turned to him, her heart pounding. He stood there, tall and steady, his sharp gaze softening as it lingered on her. For a moment, the cold and the city and the chaos all seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth of his nearness.

“This was...” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “So much fun. Honestly, more than I expected.”

Bruce tilted his head, his lips curving into a soft grin. “You sound surprised.”

She laughed, a sound that made the corners of his mouth lift higher. “Well, yeah. You’re Bruce Wayne. Billionaire, philanthropist, Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. And I’m just...” She gestured vaguely at herself. “...me.”

“Just you?” His tone held a teasing edge. “Gotham’s top detective, the bravest woman I know, and someone who has an unparalleled talent for putting me in my place?”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smile. “Unparalleled talent, huh? Keep going. I like where this is headed.”

Bruce chuckled, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Let’s just say, tonight’s been the highlight of my week. Maybe my month.”

Marie’s smile softened as her fingers brushed the edge of his jacket, tracing the fabric absentmindedly. Bruce didn’t mind—in fact, he welcomed the quiet intimacy of the gesture.

She hesitated, her thoughts swirling, unsure if this was the right moment to say what was on her mind. “Bruce, I—” Her voice faltered, and she stopped herself, biting her lip as doubt crept in.

His gaze dropped to hers, calm and steady. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice low and encouraging.

Marie took a breath, her fingers still toying with his jacket. “I’ve really enjoyed tonight—being with you,” she said softly, her usual confidence giving way to something quieter, more vulnerable. For a moment, the walls she kept so carefully in place seemed to slip, just enough for him to see the uncertainty behind her words.

Bruce tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable but his eyes locked on hers, silently urging her to continue.

“But,” she added, glancing down at her boots, “my life’s... messy. My job is unpredictable, and it doesn’t leave a lot of room for things like this. For—” She gestured vaguely between them, struggling to find the words. “Whatever this is.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed just slightly, a flicker of something—concern, maybe disappointment—crossing his face. He stepped a little closer, his presence grounding yet careful, like he didn’t want to spook her.

Bruce reached out, his hand brushing against hers, grounding her. His thumb lingered on the back of her hand, a simple touch that sent a shiver down her spine. “Hey, my life’s not exactly a picture of normalcy, either.”

She looked at him, surprised by his honesty. “I don’t want to scare you off, that’s all. I just... wanted to be transparent.”

His hand lingered on hers for a moment longer, before he gently cupped her face with his other hand, his touch soft and reassuring. “You’re not scaring me off. If anything, you’re making me want to know more.”

Her laugh was soft, almost disbelieving. “Well, that’s reassuring. Most guys bolt when I start talking about police reports and perp chases.”

“I’m not most guys,” Bruce said, his voice low but sure, his thumb brushing along her cheek before he slowly let go of her face.

Marie’s breath caught for a moment. “No, you’re definitely not.”

They stood there for a beat, the noise of the city fading into the background as they locked eyes. Finally, Marie stepped back, her hand brushing lightly against his as she reached for her door.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said, her voice warm.

“When can I see you again?” Bruce asked, his gaze never leaving hers.

She grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe, her eyes glinting with amusement as she pretended to think, clearly enjoying the way his eagerness seemed to hang in the air. “I’m off this Sunday.”

“Sunday, it is.”

As she reached for the door handle, Bruce took a step closer, his hand catching hers gently. Before she could pull away, he kissed the back of her knuckles, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. “Goodnight, Marie.”

She smiled softly, feeling the warmth of his touch. “Goodnight, Bruce.”

With that, she stepped inside, closing the door behind her, her heart racing in the quiet aftermath of their goodnight.

She turned to watch through the door’s window, her eyes following him as he walked into the night, his frame gradually vanishing into the shadows. 

What she didn’t see was the way his face softened, a rare, almost giddy feeling settling in his chest as Bruce replayed her words. She felt safe with him, she trusted him—both as Bruce Wayne and as Batman. And though she didn’t know the full truth, that connection meant everything to him.

—-------------------------------

The precinct buzzed with its usual chaos—ringing phones, clacking keyboards, and the occasional curse muttered over bad coffee. Marie sat across from Gordon in his office, the blinds half-drawn, streaks of pale light spilling over the cluttered desk. Gordon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression that of a man who’d spent too many years working for an ungrateful city.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his tone expectant, like he assumed she was here to talk about the Red Lotus case.

Marie hesitated, picking at the edge of the file in her lap. “It’s… not about the case,” she started, her voice softer than usual. “It’s personal.”

Gordon glanced up, already looking unimpressed. “This better not be about Bullock stealing lunches again. I’m not wasting my morning playing babysitter.”

Marie snorted quietly, shaking her head. “No, it’s not about Bullock. It’s about me. I’ve been... seeing someone.”

That got his attention. He set his pen down, leaning back with a raised eyebrow. “Seeing someone? Who’s the guy?”

She hesitated, then folded her arms like she was bracing herself. “Bruce Wayne.”

There was a pause as Gordon blinked, processing. “Bruce Wayne?” His voice rose slightly, tinged with disbelief. “The Bruce Wayne? Gotham’s tuxedo-wearing headline generator? How in the hell did that happen?”

Marie sighed. “He asked me out at the gala, and I said yes. We went out. It was… really nice, actually.”

Gordon tilted his head, his curiosity clearly piqued. “So, what’s the problem? Sounds like it went well.”

“It did,” she admitted, her voice dropping. Vulnerability crept in, softening her usual confidence. “But it’s complicated. I’ve never had much of a life outside this job. I don’t even know how to make room for one. The idea of balancing this career with a relationship? It feels impossible.”

"So, you’re asking me for relationship advice?” he asked, his tone skeptical, as if trying to figure out how this conversation had landed on his desk.

When Marie nodded, he sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. “Look, Marie, this job is a black hole. It’ll suck up everything you’re willing to give it and then demand more. If you’re waiting for the perfect moment to have a life, let me save you the trouble—it’s not coming.”

She frowned, her fingers tracing the edge of the file in her lap. “But what if I screw it up? What if I can’t give him enough time, or this job gets in the way?”

He rolled his eyes, though his voice softened. “Kid, life’s messy. This job’s messier. Balance isn’t some magic thing you stumble on—it’s something you fight for. You have to protect what matters, because trust me, no one else is going to do it for you.”

Marie looked up, surprised by the frankness in his tone. “You think I can handle it?”

“Of course, you can,” he said, snorting. “You’re one of the sharpest people I know, even if you do insist on sticking your neck out too much. If this Bruce Wayne guy makes you happy—and I’m sure any billionaire would—don’t throw it away just because work’s demanding.”

She let out a small laugh, the weight on her shoulders lifting slightly. “Thanks, Gordon. That actually means a lot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Just don’t start slacking off to hang out on a yacht with Gotham’s golden boy.”

Marie laughed as she stood, some of her usual confidence returning. “I’ll try to resist the temptation.”

Gordon gave her a pointed look as she reached the door. “And, Manning? You’re damn good at this job, but don’t let it chew you up. It’s okay to have a life.”

She nodded, his words settling in her chest like a quiet truth. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Gordon.”

He grunted, already turning his attention back to the stack of files on his desk. “Yeah, yeah. Close the door on your way out.”

—-------------------------------

The dim glow of Marie’s desk lamp cast shadows over the mountain of case files scattered across her desk. The Red Lotus case consumed her thoughts, each detail gnawing at her. She was convinced the next murder would take place at an abandoned industrial plant near Gotham Hospital.

Marie’s hunch about the industrial plant wasn’t just a shot in the dark—it was rooted in a pattern. The Red Lotus killer always chose abandoned, decaying places: a subway station, a warehouse, a parking garage. The plant near Gotham Hospital fit the profile perfectly.

There was more. Every victim had a connection to Carmine Falcone’s criminal empire—ex-associates, distant relatives, even victims of his operations. Recently, an informant had tipped her off that Falcone used the plant for illegal shipments. If the killer was targeting Falcone’s network, the plant might be next.

And tonight was the seventh day since the last murder. The killer’s clock was ticking, and Marie wasn’t about to let this lead go cold.

Driven by urgency, she strode into Commissioner Gordon’s office, where he was slipping on his coat.

“Boss, I need to get in touch with Batman. I’ve got a lead on the Red Lotus case,” she said, her voice steady but edged with tension.

Gordon arched an eyebrow, pausing mid-button. “At this hour? Don’t you have a cat at home waiting for dinner?”

Marie shot him a flat look, unamused.

Gordon sighed, gesturing toward the ceiling. “There’s a floodlight on the roof. It’s busted to hell, but it usually does the trick. Don’t expect miracles.”

“Floodlight?” Marie echoed, a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

“It’s how we communicate. Crude, but effective. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m overdue for a bad TV dinner.”

Minutes later, Marie was on the precinct’s rooftop, staring at the rusted, oversized light. She fiddled with the switches, muttering curses under her breath as sparks flew. After a few false starts, the beam of light finally roared to life, projecting a faint bat silhouette into the smoggy Gotham sky.

She folded her arms, pacing. “All right, Dark Knight, let’s see if this works.”

Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty.

“Maybe he’s busy saving kittens,” she muttered. But just in case he showed up later, she scribbled a quick note:

Industrial warehouse near Gotham Hospital. Red Lotus lead.

Marie stuck the note to the floodlight, making sure it wouldn’t blow away in the wind. She grabbed her keys and headed to the plant alone, her determination outweighing the creeping unease that came with walking into the unknown.

—-------------------------------

The plant loomed ahead, a grotesque skeleton of rusted metal and flickering fluorescent lights. The air reeked of mildew and old grease. Marie steeled herself as she stepped inside, flashlight in hand. Shadows danced across broken machinery, creating shapes that toyed with her imagination.

Each footstep echoed unnaturally loud, her pulse quickening. A sudden noise—a creak of metal—stopped her dead. Her flashlight swept the room, catching only emptiness.

The growl of engines cut through the silence. Marie spun, squinting as the headlights of black SUVs pierced the darkness. Doors slammed, and men poured out, moving with the predatory ease of wolves. At their center stood Carmine Falcone, his tailored suit as sharp and pristine as his predatory grin.

“Well, well,” Falcone drawled, his voice slick with smugness. “Detective Manning. What brings you to my humble corner of Gotham tonight?”

Marie squared her shoulders, holding her ground. “Cut the shit, Falcone. Are you behind the Red Lotus murders?”

Falcone chuckled, his amusement clear as he slowly approached. “Why does everyone assume it’s me when bodies start piling up? Feels a little lazy, don’t you think?”

Marie���s glare was icy. “You’ve got the motive, the resources, and a history that speaks for itself. So yeah, it’s not exactly a leap.”

He smirked, shaking his head like she’d told a joke. “Detective, you wound me. I’m a businessman. Murder’s bad for business. If I wanted someone dead, trust me, there wouldn’t be anything left to trace back to me.”

“Spare me the rehearsed denials,” she snapped, stepping forward. “People are saying you’re involved, Falcone. What aren’t you telling me?”

His smile sharpened, his dark eyes glinting with malice. “Maybe because people love a good story, Detective. Or maybe Gotham’s full of fools desperate for a payday. But you? You’re supposed to be smarter than this.”

Marie clenched her fists. “This isn’t a game. People are dying. You think this city can take more blood on its streets?”

Falcone’s smirk twisted into a scowl, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Watch your mouth, sweetheart. You’re in way over your head. And if I wanted to, I could make you disappear so fast, your body would never be seen again.”

Marie stepped closer, her tone sharp as a blade. “Go ahead, Falcone. I’m not scared of some slimy shitbag who hides behind his money and goons.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air. Then Falcone’s lips curled into a cruel grin, and he snapped his fingers. “Boys. Teach her a little respect.”

The first punch came hard and fast, slamming into her ribs. Marie staggered, gasping as pain exploded in her side. Another blow hit her shoulder, sending her to one knee.

But she didn’t go down without a fight. She twisted sharply, her elbow cracking into one thug’s jaw as she sprang to her feet. She dodged another punch and landed a solid one of her own, driving her knuckles into a man’s nose with a satisfying crunch.

“You put up a good fight, sweetheart,” Falcone called from the sidelines, his voice dripping with mockery. “But not good enough. You’re outnumbered.”

Marie gritted her teeth as a heavy arm looped around her waist, dragging her back. She kicked out, her boot connecting with a thug’s shin, forcing him to release her. Another came at her from the side, swinging a crowbar. She ducked just in time, the metal whooshing past her head, and delivered a punch to his gut.

But it wasn’t enough. A sharp blow to the back of her leg sent her sprawling. She scrambled, her fingers clawing toward the holster on her hip, but a boot slammed down on her hand, pinning her in place.

“Stay down, Detective,” one thug snarled, twisting her wrist painfully.

Marie grunted in pain but didn’t stop struggling. Blood dripped from a cut on her cheek, and her breaths came in short, ragged bursts. She locked eyes with Falcone, who stood watching like a king amused by a gladiator match.

“You’re tougher than you look,” he said, taking a lazy drag from a cigar. “But tough only gets you so far in this city.”

Marie glared at him, defiance burning in her eyes. “Go to hell.”

Falcone chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Maybe one day, sweetheart. But you? You won’t live to see it.”

Just as another thug raised his fist for a finishing blow, a sharp thwip sliced through the air.

A grappling hook snagged the man’s arm, yanking him back with bone-crushing force. He crashed into a stack of metal pipes, groaning as he hit the ground.

A shadow moved across the dimly lit space. Then, from the rafters, a dark figure descended like a predator pouncing on its prey. Batman landed in a low crouch, his cape snapping behind him before it settled like wings. The thugs froze, their bravado faltering in the presence of the Dark Knight.

Without a word, Batman surged forward, his movements a blur of calculated violence. He caught one thug by the wrist, twisting until the man cried out and dropped his weapon. A quick strike to the temple sent him crumpling to the ground. Another charged from the left, but Batman sidestepped, using the man’s momentum to throw him into a nearby pillar.

Marie struggled to sit up, watching through a haze of pain and adrenaline as Batman dismantled Falcone’s men. Each strike was precise, each movement efficient. No wasted energy, no hesitation. The sound of fists meeting flesh and the groans of fallen men echoed through the plant.

Falcone, no longer smug, took a cautious step back. “This isn’t over, Bat,” he spat, retreating into the shadows as two remaining goons covered his escape. A sleek black SUV roared to life, its tires screeching as it sped away.

Batman didn’t follow. Instead, he turned his attention to the remaining thugs. One tried to pull a knife, but Batman disarmed him with a brutal kick that sent the blade skittering across the floor. Another swung wildly, only to be met with a counterpunch that left him unconscious before he hit the ground.

As the last thug fell, silence settled over the warehouse, broken only by the distant wail of approaching sirens. Batman’s cape billowed as he pivoted toward Marie, his imposing figure cutting through the dim light.

He crouched beside her, his gloved hands hovering near her arm but not quite touching her. His voice was low and tight. “Are you hurt?”

Marie winced, brushing off her bruised knees and grimacing at the pain radiating through her ribs. “I’ll live,” she muttered, her voice sharp with frustration. “Took you long enough.”

Batman’s jaw tightened beneath the cowl. His gaze swept over her injuries, his unreadable expression hiding a storm of emotions. “You shouldn’t have come here alone.”

Marie shot him a glare, her exhaustion and anger bubbling over. “And you shouldn’t have ignored the damn Bat Signal!”

“I didn’t ignore it,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice dark with suppressed anger. “I was handling a situation across the city. You had no business coming here alone, without backup.”

Marie pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly before steadying herself. “What was I supposed to do, sit around twiddling my thumbs while Falcone’s men moved in? You didn’t answer, Batman. I made a call.”

Batman rose to his full height, his imposing figure towering over her. “You could have been killed, Detective,” he growled, his voice harsher than intended. “Do you have any idea how reckless that was?”

“I had to do something!” she shot back, her eyes blazing with defiance. “People are dying, and every second counts. I’m not just going to stand by while the city burns.”

“You won’t save anyone by getting yourself killed,” Batman snapped. His hands clenched at his sides as he struggled to rein in his emotions. Beneath the anger, a deep well of worry churned. Seeing her bruised and battered had shaken him more than he’d admit.

Marie took a step closer, her voice softening but still firm. “I can take care of myself. I know the risks, and I know what I’m doing.”

Batman’s shoulders stiffened, his cape shifting as he turned his gaze away briefly, as if to compose himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, tinged with something almost vulnerable. “You shouldn’t have to. Not alone.”

The fight drained from her as his words sank in, and she studied him for a moment, her expression softening. “I know you’re worried, but you don’t get to make these choices for me.”

He exhaled sharply, the weight of his dual life pressing heavily on him. “Just… don’t do this again,” he said finally, his tone softer but no less serious.

Marie nodded, though her eyes still sparkled with determination. “Fine. But next time, answer the damn signal.”

Batman didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on her as if committing her to memory.

Marie sat against a nearby crate, feeling the adrenaline finally leave her body as the pain in her side flared up again.

Minutes passed before the sound of sirens grew louder. Backup arrived, and the ambulance pulled up soon after.

“You’re going with them.” Batman’s voice was firm, but the usual steel behind it was missing. It wasn’t just an order—it was concern.

His gloved hands were steady as he helped her to her feet, his grip firm but careful, as if he were afraid she might break under his touch. One hand braced against her lower back, the other wrapping around her arm just enough to keep her steady without making her feel fragile. His touch was protective, grounding, a silent reassurance that he wouldn’t let her fall.

Marie winced, sucking in a breath as pain shot through her ribs, but it wasn’t just the ache in her body that made her lightheaded. It was him—the way he was close, the way his presence surrounded her like a shield against the chaos.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she murmured, her voice softer than she intended.

He didn’t answer right away. His grip on her lingered a second longer before he reluctantly let go, his eyes dark and unreadable beneath the cowl. The air between them felt charged, like something unspoken was hanging there, waiting to be acknowledged.

The medics reached for her, guiding her toward the ambulance, but she kept her gaze locked on his. He hadn’t disappeared yet—hadn’t vanished into the shadows the way he always did. That meant something.

His voice was lower this time, almost hesitant. “Stay safe.” Not an order. A request.

Marie exhaled a tired smile. “I will.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added with a teasing lilt, “And next time, answer the signal.”

For a second, she thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch—like he might actually smile. But then, just as quickly, he took a step back, retreating into the darkness where he belonged.

The ambulance doors closed, and as she leaned her head back against the cool metal, exhaustion finally pulling her under, she realized something.

He hadn’t just saved her. He had stayed.

As the vehicle pulled away, she couldn’t shake the feeling that despite all the tension, there was something between them. Something unspoken, but growing stronger with each passing moment.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Investigations are attempted

whumptober2023 day 12- red fandom- Danny phantom x batman TW- none summary- Bruce and his kids continue to look into Daniel Nightingale.

ao3 whumptober23 materlist Part 4 of ITR

Bruce stared at the file again.

Name: Daniel Nightingale Family: Unknown Previous employment: Nasty Burger cashier Magical ability: can sense spirits and magical artifacts, can see some mid-level spirits

He frowned. He’d already tried looking up Nasty Burger but no results had come up. He’d tried looking more into Daniel but everything seemed to be in place. Everything was almost too perfect.

It felt like a cover up, like a fake identity. But it was done so well, he was having trouble finding anything else. He’d already had Tim and Barbara try, but Tim didn’t get much further, only discovering that Daniel was his real name but Nightingale had been what was changed. Barbara had agreed and added that she recognized the signature of the hacker who had done the job, but that she had no idea who the hacker was except that they were on her level of talent.

Bruce closed that file and pulled up his search for Manson.

He turned aside to take a drink of his coffee, and when he turned back there was a message displayed on the Batcomputer.

Bruce stared at it before reaching up to his comm. “Oracle.”

“What’s up, B?” he could hear the clicking of keys in the background.

 “I need you to run a check on the Batcomputer.”

“I’m kind of busy at the moment, is this something that can wait?”

“I think we may have found the Manson we’re looking for.”

“Okay?”

“But I only know because the name started blinking across the screen.”

Oracle was silent for a moment before he heard her curse, then the clicking of keys continued at a much more frantic pace.

Bruce waited, the message had disappeared already and so he started looking up Samantha Manson. From what he found she reminded him of Ivy, and he could only hope she wasn’t some kind of villain as well. Manson was an avid protester against meat farms and deforestation along with several other environmental issues. She was also heir to the Manson company and fortune. When he looked into her background he found that she came from Amity Park, Illinois. But when Bruce looked the town up, he came up blank. He wanted to bang his head agaisnt his desk in frustration.

“B.”

“What did you find?”

“I don’t know where exactly the message originated from, but it has the same signature as whoever made Nightingale’s files.”

Bruce grunted in acknowledgement and frustration.

“I’ll keep looking but I've never been able to find this hacker before and I’m not sure I’ll be able to unless they let me.”

“Keep me updated.”

Bruce could practically feel her eye roll as she answered. “Of course, B.”

Bruce really hoped Samanthat Manson was the one they were looking for. But why would the hacker tell them? Regardless, it was worth looking into. It had been a month since Daniel had been taken and if this went on too long, Bruce wasn’t sure if Daniel would still be alive.

He looked up Manson’s whereabouts and his suspicions increased when he found that she had arrived in Gotham the day before.

He spoke over the comms again, “I need a volunteer to go with me to investigate Manson.”

“You finally found them? Who are they?” said Nightwing.

“Took you long enough, old man.”

“Did you or Oracle find them?” Tim asked.

“Neither. Someone hacked the Batcomputer to send the message.”

There was silence on the comms for less than a second before a flurry of overlapping voices made Bruce wince. 

“Quiet.” Thankfully they listened and Bruce was able to continue. “Oracle is looking into it, but I want one of you with me to approach Manson.”

“I need to wrap a case up in Bludhaven.”

“I’m busy.” Jason said.

“I’ll go.” Robin responded.

“Not you, Robin. Agent A informs me you have a project to work on.”

“But, Father–”

“Do you want to take it up with Agent A?”

Damien grumbled but didn’t say anything else.

“Red Robin?”

Tim sighed, “I guess I can go. Whoever this Manson is probably knows our hacker, and I’d really like to meet the person who can hack the Batcomputer. Who is it?”

“Samantha Manson.”

Tim spluttered. “What! Sam Manson, heir to the toothpick company!”

“You know her?”

“Do I know her? She’s the only reason I volunteer for the annual Baymont’s Gala, you know, the owners of that meat packaging plant. Her family always attends, and she always does something to make the gala more interesting. Last year she somehow put laxative in all the champagne. It was hilarious!”

He could hear Dick cackling over the comms.

“That’s ridiculous. Surely something like that would be in the news?” Damien said.

“I don’t think she’s ever been caught.”

“Then how do you know it was her?” Jason asked.

We’ve been going to that gala for years and she’s always very vocal about her opinions of the Baymonts and their company. And once I saw her slip a fake mouse into Avery Bellmonts dress.”

“I think I heard about that incident.” Dick said. “If she turns out to be good, we should invite her to the next Wayne gala; they are always so boring. No offense, B.”

“I agree, except full offense. And no names in the comms, Dickwing.” Jason said.

“Hypocrite.”

“It’s not my fault you–”

“Boys.” There was silence and Bruce sighed. “Red Robin, I’m sending you the address of her hotel. Meet me there in an hour.”

“Will do, B.”

Bruce silenced his comm and got up to get changed into the Batsuit. If Samantha was anything like Tim said, he was in for a long night.

[anawrites3]

Hi!!! I love your writing its awesome! Have you got any thoughts on how the dynamic between Slade and Dick would change if they were already in an established relationship when Bruce "dies" and Dick is Batman?

Aww, thank you so much, love!! That makes me so happy! 🥰🥰

Oh, their relationship would change a lot with Dick being the Batman. Dick would be running himself ragged every night and every day, trying to keep Gotham safe and doing what he can to stop his family from tearing each other's throats out because suddenly everything is going to shit and everyone is fighting.

Now Dick doesn't have time to eat, doesn't have time to sleep. When he finally sees Slade, he just kisses him and leaves to deal with another rogue.

"Oh. Slade." Dick stopped half-step and blinked up at him. It spoke a lot of his state, if he didn't hear Slade getting in. Slade looked him over without a word. His little bird was wearing Batman's suit and he seemed to almost drown in its huge form. There were bags under his eyes, as if he didn't sleep for at least a week and Slade wouldn't even be surprised if he really didn't. Slade wondered when was the last time he ate a solid meal and not just some protein bars or dry cereal. There was also a wound dressing on Dick's cheek, a stitched cut on the other one. "Little bird-" Dick smiled at him, a tired little thing and walked closer, to press a kiss against Slade's cheek. "I have to go now, baby, I'll see you later." He said, and before Slade was able to say anything else, Dick slipped the cowl over his head and walked out through the window. Slade watched him go with hands curled into fists, forcing himself not to punch out a hole into the wall.

Slade lets it happen the first time but he spends the next few days in Gotham, patrolling where no one would see him. Helping Dick however he can because his little bird has enough on his plate, especially with trying to raise Bruce's assassin kid.

But then, instead of it getting better, it's just getting worse and worse. Slade would deny it til the day he dies but he's a big softie and especially for Dick, and he stops taking contracts so he can focus on helping Dick and making sure his little bird stays alive.

Slade makes sure Dick eats. He prepares the meals for him himself and sits with him to make sure that Dick will actually eat it. He forces Dick to sleep, even for a short nap - and when Dick is too stressed to pass out, Slade fucks him and help him relax. He patrols Gotham by his side.

And Dick feels so bad with all of this because yes, they're dating but Slade didn't sign up for something like this. He will try to break up with Slade and Slade won't let him.

"I want to break up." Slade slowly looked up from the files he was reading over. If he was surprised, he didn't show it in any way and Dick hated how good he always was with hiding his emotions. Dick wondered if maybe Slade already knew that Dick would say that. Maybe he wanted to bring it up himself but didn't know how to, without being too big of a dick about it. Dick really couldn't blame him for it. But then Slade just looked back down at the documents in his hands. "No." He simply said.

Then they will fuck nasty about it :3 and afterwards, when they're laying together in bed they will have a serious talk about everything. Dick for sure will have an "Oh" moment when he realizes that Slade wants to do all that for him and that he really really loves him 🥰 After that, keeping Gotham safe will be easier for everyone and not long after that Bruce will come back.

The first thing Slade does after Bruce's return, is taking Dick away on vacation somewhere warm <3

This wasn't meant to be so long lmao but I couldn't stop myself from adding those little writings haha, yeah so basically before Batman Dick their relationship would be more casual, with them having dates and Dick spending a lot of time in Slade's safehouse in Blud and then after Dick becomes Batman, it will become more, they will both live in Manor and Slade would be taking care of his birdie in every possible way he's allowed 🥰

[ao3sbatfamily]

'how to feed your local demon' by InkpotSprite

“Oh, don’t forget your–” A few papers fell out as Dick lifted it up, revealing pictures of Nightwing, Robin and Batman in the middle of a fight with Poison Ivy. “Files.”

“Ah. Those.” Tim laughed nervously, the sharp, citrus-like taste filling the air.

Dick stared at him. Maybe the kid was just a fan, who happened to tote about a heavy folder full of pictures, bar graphs and pages of notes on them. It was possible. Weird, but nothing too out there by Gotham standards.

"I know you're Nightwing." Tim said, effectively smiting away Dick's hopeful optimism. "I like the new suit by the way. It's way cooler than the Elvis look you were going for before." He added.

Dick closed his eyes, wishing he could just go back to bed and sleep until life made sense again.

[dchuntress]

hi hi <3 you seem like the best person to ask and I trust ur taste so do you have some huntress/helena bertellini references I could use? anything full body or full face if u have it. if not that’s ok! your blog is super cool I hope u have a nice day <3

hey!! sorry for the late response. you're very sweet and i appreciate your ask so much, thank you!!! i hope you're having a good day too 💕

this response ended up longer than i expected, so to answer your question directly: i personally like her appearances in the hush comics the best! [ batman #609, #617 ]

i'm going to give a more elaborate response under the cut with more options and designs, because there's just no one way to depict her and you're always more than allowed to have fun with drawing her!! she can pull off anything 😈

i'm just laying out certain ways she's been drawn in different categories, these do not double as a comic reading list necessarily although if you do check out these comics, you'll find more material to work with! i'm just offering a glimpse. also, i'm sorry some of the images are out of order! i'm on mobile so i'm struggling a little; i added alt image descriptions to label the images

comics marked in purple are what i believe have some nice depictions of her in civil clothing too if you're also looking for that!

i hope this helps!!!

category one: blunt trauma, nightwing/huntress, her time in the no man's land era, her appearance in wonder woman #164

category two: birds of prey vol 1 (her first appearance starts from #57), birds of prey vol 2, the animated show justice league unlimited

category three: spyral/grayson comics, batgirl and the birds of prey

category four: detective comics (2016—) [ issues: #1034 to #1058 ], lazarus planet: dark fate

category five: [ the miscellaneous ] this screenshot from jla secret files & origins #2, batman secret files: huntress, cry for blood, the question: pipeline & convergence, injustice: gods among us, huntress: year one, the justice league unlimited comics

just a note? there is another character, helena wayne aka the huntress, who originates from earth 2. in crossbow at the crossroads, that's not helena bertinelli, it's actually helena wayne! this mistake is often made because the writer pulled a pretty terrible "omg helena wayne was pretending to be helena bertinelli this whole time lololol" plot twist and the comic's summary also mentions hel b, so yeah.

if you have any more questions i'm always happy to help!! 🩵