#Look at Jim's face and then Alfred is just so done with him in this scene

[gilverrwrites]

Do you have some headcanons about Thomas and Martha Wayne ? And what is your favorite portrayal of them, as in which movie or comic do you like them most ?

I don’t have many headcanons to be honest;

Thomas is the academic type. He’s studious, focused, hardworking.

Martha is the firecracker. She’s sporty, loves track and tennis, and has a playful flare for the dramatics.

(This might be canon? Cant remember but) Martha is Jewish.

She’s the more adventurous of the two. She wanted Bruce to see the world, to take him to all the shows, try all the foods, and wear the new styles.

Whereas Thomas was more reserved, more cautious.

Sometimes Bruce sees his kids wearing something a bit out there, and he won’t say anything but he’s has that stony faces side eye and Alfred has to stop himself from saying ‘You look just like your father’.

Or when Bruce can’t help but read news articles aloud to him when he gets excited about some new tech that’s being rolled out in Japan or something. ‘Can you believe it Alfred? I have got to speak to Barbara about this.’ ‘Quite sir. I think your mother would have loved that too.’

She used to do the same thing at breakfast every morning. ‘Tom have you heard this?’ ‘Alfred what do you think?’ ‘Goodness, the worlds gone mad, and were here to see it!’

Bruce physically takes after his father the most but those pretty blue eyes that look into your soul are 100% Martha.

The pearls we so often see splayed across the alleyway are a family heirloom on the Wayne side. Forensics picked up every piece they could find. After years of getting dusty in an evidence locker, hoping nobody would notice Jim dug them out, had them restrung and gave them to Bruce on the 10th anniversary of their death.

Bruce was displeased at the time, he doesn’t want jewels he wants justice. But eventually he came around. He keeps them in her jewellery box which is in their untouched bedroom. When he really misses her sometimes he goes in there and just holds them.

The room is off limits to everyone but himself and Alfred. Despite this, all the kids have broke in out of curiosity at least once.

Except Jason who respected Bruce’s wishes. He was just grateful to have a home.

And Tim, who got caught and chewed out something fierce.

As for portrayals:

Obviously not true to their origin, but I really liked them in flashpoint.

The Ultimate Evil Castle of the Bat is spooky, and fun. I love the Frankenstein story but, like flash point it doesn’t do much for their origin as it’s an AU. Their actors in

The Batman 2022 are spot on for what I imagine their appearance to be, sans Martha needing darker, curlier hair.

There’s a fair few comics detailing Martha’s life pre Thomas but none that stand out. Honestly, I can stand when they make her out to be a villain or just put her on the arm of a criminal and call it depth. It’s been done, sometimes well, sometimes not, can we have something different now please?

I haven’t seen Pennyworth, but I believe they’re it quite a bit. Is it worth the watch?

[jayalaw]

Bruce Wayne on the Muppet Show

Okay we have a headcanon that Bruce Wayne would be amazing with the Muppets on a talk show. And people have posted that he would get along with Miss Piggy.

Something to remember: Batman has existed for nearly a hundred years. And he had comics around the time that the Muppet Show aired. So let's go back to the 1980s.

Before Crisis on Infinite Earths, Dick and Bruce had a great relationship, and he became Nightwing during the Judas Contract era. So Dick is preparing to retire the Robin role, but promising that it won't be forever.

Of course, Bruce understands. He helped raise this kid. A part of him is relieved that he won't have to worry about supervillains targeting Robin until Dick is ready to return. But he is going to miss having the Boy Wonder by his side. Both Alfred and Dick notice the sadness in his smile of congratulations.

Dick reveals he arranged a special birthday present for Bruce: a guest spot on the Muppet Show! Wayne Enterprises made a huge donation to Jim Henson Productions, and asked if they could do an episode with the elusive bachelor and Gotham City's wealthiest. He knows that Bruce has been watching the shows to wind down between cases, as a reward when they foil a kidnapping or make a child smile. Alfred also let slip that Bruce would sometimes watch Sesame Street, as it aired about nine years earlier.

Bruce wants to demur, to give the spot to a small celebrity or musician. There is work to be done in Gotham City. Dick promises that he, Barbara and Superman have it covered. There's Batwoman and Flamebird, but of course Batman and Robin don't want to think about them. But in any case, Bruce has earned this. And he can use the occasion to raise more charity for Gotham's crime victims.

Gotham will be fine. Bruce Wayne can be Bruce for a night. He just has to fly to the set, film for a few hours, and fly back. It won't even be a day. Batman does ask who will be Batman in case someone gets suspicious. Dick smiles and says leave that to him.

Bruce maintains the aura of a carefree playboy. He reviews the script with the writers, and admits he is awed to shake hands with Frank Oz and Jim Henson. His intellectual mind observes the mechanics in the workshop, thinking what he can add to his utility belt. He does ask to make some changes.

After the episode airs, people talk about the highlights. They didn't know that Bruce Wayne could sing or dance, as he closes the show with a duet of Gonzo's song from the Muppet Movie. Gonzo is there as well, and they are close while singing "I'm Going to Go Back There Someday." He also performs Billy Flynn's solo from Chicago with Miss Piggy in the chorus line, and people learn that Bruce Wayne has studied his Bob Fosse dance moves.

Gossip columnists will wonder why Bruce is single, with all these qualities. He is perfect in every sense of the word, apart from the obliviousness when he wanders into the Swedish Chef's kitchen. Several flying fish smack him in the face, jumping in their escape from a fish soup.

What brings down the house, though? A one-on-one interview with Kermit, as is standard for guests. Bruce talks about his life in Gotham, how he has been privileged to raise a young man as his son. Kermit asks if that's why he's not married, that he's looking for the perfect stepmother. Bruce gives a coy smile and says that it's because he wants to marry a woman who can beat him in combat. Miss Piggy sidles in to offer her phone number, as well as a dojo. Bruce tucks it into his coat pocket and tells her, "Call me!" as Kermit shoos her away.

But that is not the punchline. Kermit asks Bruce if it's true that he lives in the same city as Batman. Bruce says that it's true, and Batman has even rescued him a few times. (Recently, a criminal had tried taking Bruce Wayne hostage and it hadn't ended well for him. He's still recuperating in the Arkham hospital wing.) Kermit says if he would like to take a photo with Batman. Deadpan, Bruce asks if it will be black-and-white or color. After all, he is rather underdressed in his three-piece suit.

The script says that a Muppet will come in dressed as Batman. For the first few takes, they have Sweetums dressed in a Bat costume. Then there is one, however, where Gonzo comes in dressed as a little bat and tries speaking in a gravelly voice. He declares he is the protector of Gotham City.

No one has ever reported Bruce Wayne laughing, EVER. Sure he has chuckled at interviews or gave polite smiles. But he actually breaks down laughing for a full minute at Gonzo, and it is iconic. Decades later, on YouTube, you can look up "Bruce Wayne Muppets" and it is the top result. People will comment that they didn't realize rich people could be fun.

Bruce suspects that Dick put the Muppet crew up to it. He can take a good joke, though, and insists that he, Dick and Alfred watch the television premiere. Of course criminals interrupt, this time the Joker with a rubber chicken scheme, but Alfred knows how to record to cassettes.

Wayne Enterprises still donates to the Muppets, to make sure they don't get bought by corporate interests. Because while Gotham needs heroes, the world always needs laughter.

[calligraphist-artemisia]

Are You Sure About This?

Written for JayDick Week 2023, Day 5: High School/College AU | Fingerstripes | Gotham Knights

Also posted on AO3 (under the name: kishirokitsune)

@jaydick-week

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Are You Sure About This?

It started out as a joke after they all sat and watched the footage of Bruce, stripped down to a scandalously short pair of black boxers, dancing at the Iceberg Lounge while Oswald Cobblepot pleaded for him to get down. If they ever needed a distraction like that, who would be the one to step up in Bruce's place?

Tim, while quite adept at creating distractions as Robin, was underaged and on top of that had presented himself as the hyper-capable teen CEO of Wayne Enterprise. Barbara was too well-known as the daughter of ex-Commissioner Jim Gordon. Dick point blank refused.

Which left Jason.

He hadn't taken it seriously at the time. His little dance had served its purpose to embarrass Tim and get Barbara and Dick to laugh. How could he have predicted that, weeks later, he would be asked to provide a distraction when questions arose about Dick's abrupt return to Gotham and the rise of Nightwing sightings?

“Wouldn't it make more sense for you to do this?” Jason groused as he dug through his closet in search of appropriate clubbing attire. There wasn't much there that wasn't sweatpants or sweatshirts, which came in larger sizes or else were stretchy enough to accommodate his bigger frame.

“Been there, done that,” Dick flippantly responded from where he was sprawled out on his stomach on Jason's bed.

Jason tossed him an irate look. “If you're not going to help, then get the fuck out.”

“But baby, who would help you get all gussied up if not me?” Dick asked, playfully batting his eyelashes.

“Tim will be done with his meeting in an hour.”

“But I have the better fashion sense.”

Jason snorted as he threw a pair of sweatpants at Dick's face. “You wish, Mr. Mullet.”

Dick gasped dramatically and batted away the clothing. “I'll have you know that it was the height of fashion at the time!”

“Wow. You look pretty good for a man who was in his teens in the 70s.” Jason paused as he straightened up to his full height, crimson button-down shirt in hand. “God, what was I thinking by asking for your help. I should have talked to Alfred instead.”

“Do it, I dare you,” Dick said with a broad smile. His eyes glittered with untold mischief. “Can you imagine what he'd say? 'Of course, Master Jason. I would be delighted to assist.'” His mimicry of Alfred was scarily accurate, right down to the accent and dry tone. “'As you may have noticed, Master Bruce was rather fond of a simple pair of black silk boxers, but might I suggest a more suitable shade of red for your escapades this evening?'”

Jason completely stopped his search so he could turn around and stare at Dick in horror. “Please, never do that again.”

Dick laughed loudly and sprang up from the bed. “Let's see what we're working with here. I'm sure you've got something useful, like, uh...”

Jason crossed his arms over his chest and prepared for Dick to make fun of him for his wardrobe choices. As much as he teased the man for his flamboyant style, Dick always found a way to look good in whatever he was wearing.

“Ah ha! Okay, this one... and, oh! Jeans! I know you have a pair of boots that'll work, which just leaves...” Dick cut his eyes to Jason and lowered to the red shirt he was still holding onto. “You've already got the shirt. Excellent.”

When Dick backed out of the closet, he was holding a black leather jacket and a pair of jeans that Jason had stuffed away for being just a little too tight. He shoved both articles of clothing at Jason, forcing him to uncross his arms to keep it all from falling to the floor.

Jason dubiously eyed the clothes. “...are you sure about this?”

“Trust me,” Dick said, laying one hand on Jason's shoulder. “Try it all on so I can see how it looks.”

Jason turned his back to Dick as he walked to the bed, where he set down the clothing before stripping down and redressing in what the other man had picked for him. He was in the process of doing up the last two buttons on the shirt when Dick turned him around, batted away his hands, and undid the third and fourth buttons as well.

“Now the leather jacket,” Dick instructed, taking a step back so he could look Jason up and down.

Jason shrugged on the jacket, enjoying the weight of the supple leather as it settled against him. “Well?”

“Give me a turn,” Dick said, gesturing in a circle with one finger extended.

Feeling incredibly foolish, Jason did one full turn and then flopped his arms down at his side. As he remembered, the jeans fit too tightly around his hips and he was sure the button-down was a little too stuffy for what he needed to do. The jacket was fine – he actually liked that one. He'd picked it up at a thrift store during his first month back in Gotham and counted himself lucky that it'd survived through that period of time.

“Lookin' good, Jay,” Dick complimented. “Now to decide what to do with your hair.”

“What's wrong with my hair?”

What wasn't wrong with his hair? It'd grown out since the unfortunate gum incident that took place right before Bruce's death, but there was nothing he could really do to cover up the persistent white streak that came from his exposure to the Lazarus Pit. Barbara had tried to be nice about it, telling him that it made him look distinguished, but Jason knew the truth: it made him look far older than he was. And when paired with the scar running down the entirety of his face...

Dick's soft laughter brought him out of his morose thoughts and when Jason lifted his eyes, the older man was suddenly much closer than he expected. (Dick's eyes were so blue. How were they that bright?)

“Nothing's wrong with your hair, I just think it would suit your new look if we teased it up a bit,” Dick said, reaching up to do just that.

Jason flinched at the initial contact and then relaxed as Dick did little more than run his fingers through the lengthening strands of hair. He reflexively swallowed as the older man shuffled a smidgen closer. “Dick?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really think all of this will work? I mean... Look at me. I'm not... I'm not like you and Bruce. I can go in and act the part, sure, but that's not enough.”

Dick paused for a moment, his brow crinkled as he studied Jason's face. “What do you mean, not like me and Bruce?”

“Pretty,” Jason said bluntly, moving away from Dick. He just needed a little space. A little bit of breathing room that didn't involve taking in the warm scent of Dick's cologne. “I'm not blind to the way people look at me and move out of the way because I make them nervous. I just... I said it as a joke, you know? Yeah, let's send in Jason to strip down and dance at Cobblepot's lounge so he can get himself kicked out and make headlines! What a riot!”

“Okay, I'm going to stop you there,” Dick spoke up before Jason could take it further. “First, you – no, hang on. First, if you really feel uncomfortable doing this, then don't. Yeah, I'm kind of sick of being the one who goes out and shakes my ass and has to deal with uncomfortable comments about it, but I'll keep doing it if it means no one else has to experience the same thing. Second, there's nothing wrong with the way you look.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“I'm serious. Jason, you're one of the most handsome people I know. You are! And I can guarantee that if you go out tonight, dressed like this, someone will take notice in a good way. Fifty bucks says you leave the bar with at least three phone numbers by the end of the night,” Dick said.

“Pretty sure the whole point of this is to cause enough of a ruckus that old Oswald kicks me out,” Jason reminded him.

“That's why you get them before putting on a show. Then you just have remember which number belongs to which person.”

Maybe that had been Dick's experience whenever he went out, but it wasn't the same for Jason. He attracted a specific type – one that he didn't personally care for – and even if he did find someone he thought was handsome, they still wouldn't be someone he'd ask out.

The truth was, he'd been harboring a crush on Dick for years. He didn't like to dwell on it. That would just ruin the easy camaraderie they'd formed since his return and he wasn't going to take a chance with that. It was enough that every now and then he'd become struck with awe over the color of Dick's eyes or the way he's cheeks dimpled when he smiled or how effortless he made his flips across the Gotham sky look when they went out at night.

There was only one person who's attention Jason really wanted.

He put on a brave smile. “So, you think I'm handsome?”

Jason expected a joke. For Dick to laugh it off with some witty statement or compare him to Adonis or some shit like that, but instead he got genuine smile that made Dick's eyes crinkle up at the corners.

“You have no idea,” Dick said softly. He reached up to fix the open collar of Jason's shirt, his fingertips brushing against bare skin. “There. Just pick your favorite pair of boots and you're good to go.”

It would've been easy to pull Dick in closer. To lean down for a kiss. To just hold onto him and express his thanks or even reveal the way he felt. But Jason did nothing as Dick stepped back and began talking about the different things he could do to annoy Oswald Cobblepot – it wouldn't make enough of an impact if he just jumped up on the sculpture and copied what Bruce had already done. It needed to be something new. Something to show off Jason's best assets and moves.

Jason listened to it all, silently mourning the loss of a perfect opportunity.

There was always next time.

[v-as-in-victor]

Also I watched Batman Forever (1995) on the plane from Sydney and I have questions and comments.

Did the script have an editor or anyone who was supposed to make sure the plot plotted?

Why did Val Kilmer only play one character that was neither really Bruce Wayne nor really the Batman?

How come no one went "oh my god the Batman looks, acts, and talks exactly like Bruce Wayne who incidentally put on a pretty solid martial arts display fighting Two Face at the circus?"

That was the worst Commissioner Gordon I've ever seen.

So the Riddler and Two Face are on this crime spree montage... but Batman just... never goes out Batmanning against them unless the batsignal is lit, in which case he will drive into and out of a trap and still make no effort to catch either villain? This is like the Panda Red sketch about what happens if you take the light bulb out of the batsignal.

Nicole Kidman's character is vague and contributes nothing serious except getting to be a hostage. Rude. "I have a doctorate in saying yeah this guy seems pretty whack," is not ... very good characterization.

Robin starting out when he already looks like a full-grown man who we're supposed to agree is roughly college age is a hard sell for me.

Young Master Grayson ran away and then just... turned up again... out of the blue... in the suit Alfred made him. What is his motivation? What changed? Where was he? Out getting hot chips?

OK but ... having said that.... I absolutely adored Jim Carrey's highest of camp Riddlers. Well done that man. Over the top zany of course, but underpinned by a truly vicious smallness of mind and dangerous temperament.

[arobinwithoutbatman]

((Alrighty! It's Sunday so time to read more Tim Drake with the... 3 different guides I'm using to make sure I do it in the right order... why are comics like this?

Last week I did Lonely Place of Dying (Which covered Batman #440-442 as well as New Titans #60 and #61) And Robin Volume 1: Reborn (which covered Batman #455-457, Detective Comics #618-621 and Robin #1-5)

So I'm starting with Robin Volume 2: Triumphant

...after I've had some lunch

Hoookay DC #465...

Awwww patrolling with Batman and noting that Bruce is doing okay~

Oooooo unfortunate choice of words... I'm sure it's fine, Tim

Oof, slapped by a lady he prevented from going through something awful. Not your fault, bud

Alfred and some rando watching soap operas together while working in the Cave? Fuck yeah!

Ah yes, Bruce Wayne helping where he can as the man himself rather than a vigilante

...is he *actually* dating Vicky Vale or is it s cover?

Hah! Making a stab at the lady's age for kissing Bruce on the cheek! Very cleverly and subtly done, not sure I like the jealousy angle. Also how does Bruce put up with being flirted with and having his boundaries crossed all the time?

Oooooooohhhhhh this Ginny Gray person can't distinguish fiction from reality

Nicely played, Bruce!

Awww Jim's getting married!

Oh shit! Tim's Dad is awake!

-----------

And now #467

Ooooo I see Lynx is back

And King Snake apparently. Looking to set up shop in Gotham and be a nuisance

Sorry Jim, you're forever gonna get ghosted by Batman and Robin

"We're not the only ones who trade in fear. Crimelords run empires on it" Stares loudly in Jason's direction

OH. Oh I don't like that! Tim's still settling and the informant got dressed in a Robin costume and beat to shit?!

Yeah that's one hell of a threat

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

Let's go 468

Yup, Ghost Dragons going nuts

And that is *not* what happened Edmund!

...Bruce... Bruce I'm begging you. Just tell him you're worried for Tim's safety after a very clear threat was made and it's low key triggering you a little

You know what? I'll take that. Admitting that Robin has been singled out as a target and wanting him to be kept out of it

And of course, Tim being the clever little shit that he is, using Bruce's own words and lessons to make him finish the night and get some rest. Nicely done

Aaaaaand another threat. More subtle this time. Cause that doesn't look like a robin, I think it's some other bird?

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

Aaaaannnnnd 469

Oh Lynx is 100% manipulating Edmund

Bruce, you will keep a civil tongue in your head when speaking to Alfred, I don't care how tired and worried you are

Oh good, Bruce at least knows he's running into a trap

Oooohhhhh that's gonna hit hard

--------

Robin 2

...oh joy, it's clown themed -.- fucking clown

Nope. Absolutely do not allow the fucking clown to see his mother. Keep them faaaarrrrr apart from each other, nothing good can come from this

Like listen. I'll fight for the rights of the disabled both physically and mentally until I'm blue in the face. But given everything he's done so far, going from a relatively harmless nuisance to a literal murderer and continuing to put thousands of people in danger every time he gets out. He shouldn't get anything other than his meds.

FUCKING TOLD YOU, YOU CAN'T TRUST EITHER OF THEM

Oh God, and it's Tim's first solo patrol?!?!

Good thing Jason hasn't come back to life yet!

...this is the first time Freeze shows up? Huh... that actually goes with one of the Belfry chats

Warlocks and Warriors? Awwww Tim's a dnd nerd!

Hell yes, stand up for your friends! Sucks you've got no time rn tho

...2 years from getting his driver's liscence sooooo... he's 14 currently?

Yes Tim, the guy who killed your predecessor really is that crazy!

--------

Hm, hologram Batman. Smart idea on short notice

Oh damn, Ives is a great friend keeping Tim out of trouble like that

Uhh Ma'am? You're a local right? Surely you know not to trust anything with clown iconography?

...I'm gonna say that that phonecall wasn't Bruce and was actually Joker managing to get through on the line thanks to the computer scientist he kidnapped and drugged

Tim, honey, just be glad you're not dead because Joker knows you're on your own now

----------

And this is why you don't give the old clown anything except his fucking meds

Because he may not have a PHD like several other rogues but he's pretty decent at chemistry and he's a quick study. Look at what he's managed to do with just a few books from the asylum library!

Snrrrrkkk Alfred just admit you've come to like the excitement of American Football~ You're still a proper British gent, I promise~

...a billion dollars when the city is boarderline bankrupt? Delivered by Batman? ...I fucking hate the clown

And Tim is venting it out via his dnd game with his buddies, bless him. I've done that too, buddy

Oooooo good catch! The power grid!

...well that's not creepy at all! I might have to make an ammendment to the thread I started with my fiance

Welp... this isn't looking good

--------

Okay, setting the trap and trying to find a solution to all this

Remote controlling the truck with a Batman suit inside? Smart! Here's hoping the clown isn't expecting conversation

...is that where the Batman version of fucking Jingle Bells came from?!?!

HAH! Every other inmate making fun of the clown! As he fucking deserves!

---------

I'm gonna start another post from here I think, this one's getting long enough even under the read more

[tomhardyspinkyfinger]

Work Place Romance

Summary: Y/N is Alfie Solomons secretary, she knows his entire schedule and everything about him. How is she not supposed to fall in love?

Warnings: Language, minor sexual themes

Request: an alfie solomons and reader where shes his secretary or sumn and she brings him food everyday(bcs hes always so busy to eat) and everyone asks her wgy she does it and goes through extra work and she says its bcs she likes him? and he overhears it?

A/N: hey y'all! Sorry I'm still updating so slow. I think for a while I'm going to attempt drabbles and shorts so I can still write for you guys but just not very long. I hope you enjoy this @acupnoodle !

Masterlist

The bakery was bustling with life all day today. The men knew an impending snow storm was inbound, and they were in a rush to finish early and get home to their families. It had been snowing since early morning, and was set to get much worse.

Y/N on the other hand was in no rush, she usually locked up after Alfie retired for the night. He continued to insist she leave when he does, but she always maintained that she had work to finish.

Which was always true.

Y/N knew Alfie's entire life and was responsible for organizing every single event and meeting he was required to attend. Y/N's involvement in his life has left her with unstoppable admiration for Alfred Solomons. It wasn't like she could quit or take a vacation to get over these feelings, Alfie paid way too well and was the best boss she was going to find in Camden town. (Plus the bakery would fall apart without her). She considered going out on the weekends and meeting a fine gentleman, but the weekend was when Y/N picked up Alfie's dry cleaning, took Cyril to the groomers, prepped Alfie's dinners for the week, and tidied up the bakery.

"He will see you in his office next Wednesday at 3pm sharp. Thank you for calling Mr. Lewis!" Y/N spoke, ending her call and putting the phone on the line, scribbling in Alfie's jam packed ledger.

"Who' was that?" Alfie's deep accent sounded from behind her. Y/N jumped and turned, seeing her boss standing looking over her shoulder with a curious look. Y/N placed her pen back in its holder and straightened out her papers.

"Mr. Lewis, he was scheduling a meeting to talk about investments down in Bristol. You're meeting with him Wednesday afternoon after your lunch with Mr. Shelby." Y/N explained. Alfie huffed.

"Bristol? Fuckin' posh city 'at is, what's in it for him?" Alfie grunted, walking to his desk while removing his coat and hat, shaking the snow flakes off.

"Not sure, I think his import business is struggling, bread would be sure to bring in customers." Y/N shrugged. She looked at her wrist watch and then back to the man sitting at his desk reading papers with his glasses resting upon his nose.

"Why are you back so early? Your visit with the distributors wasn't set to be done for another hour." Y/N flipped through her ledger with a puzzled face. Alfie grunted.

"Storm's movin faster than we thought, left early to get back 'ere" He explained without removing his eyes from his paper.

"Well I wish you would have phoned ahead to tell me, I could push your appointments for the rest of the day up." Y/N huffed, frustrated that her meticulous planning could have been adjusted to save them both time.

"I don't 'ave anymore meetin's today." Alfie stated plainly. Y/N furrowed her brows even more and flipped back through the ledger.

"You have five more meetings before close Alfie, Jim is coming in on your lunch break in an hour an-" Alfie cut her off.

"Ah yes lunch, where is it? I'm starved." Alfie said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his stomach, looking like a grizzly bear as he did so. Y/N resisted the urge to smile at his cute act.

"Alfie. What do you mean you don't have any more meetings?" Y/N pressed again.

"Christ love, you're going to give yourself an ulcer. Like I said the storm is comin' in quicker 'an we thought. I gave the men the rest of the day off and canceled my meetings." Alfie explained. Y/N just about had a heart attack. She stood from her desk across from Alfie's and began pacing the room.

"Alfred Solomons! This throws my entire ledger off! How am I supposed to reschedule that many meetings? You're completely booked for the next six weeks! This is terrible for business, maybe if I call them-" Before Y/N could finish, Alfie was standing in front of her, his hands on her waist to stop her pacing. She could feel the indentation of his rings through her dress and she shivered lightly. She looked into his eyes and let out a deep breath.

"You're about to pace an 'ole through the floor, sit down and take a breath yeah? Those meetin's weren't important. The bakery is just fine." Alfie spoke, rubbing his thumbs up and down her waist gently. Her anger towards his carelessness was gone immediately, he had a way of doing that. She huffed and let him guide her to his chair where she sat. After sitting in his chair she went into his desk drawer and placed his freshly made sandwich wrapped in parchment on his desk.

“Roast chicken sandwich I made from my leftovers last night.” Y/N explained, rubbing her forehead. Alfie unwrapped the sandwich and took a gluttonous bite, smacking as he chewed the food. He sat himself at the edge of his desk, something Y/N knew would bother his joints.

“Fuckin’ delicous ‘at is.” He mumbled with his mouth full. Y/N let out a sigh and reached up, gently pushing his chin so his mouth would close, swiping crumbs from his beard as she removed her hand. It was then that Y/N realized how quiet the bakery truly was. No chatter from the men, no heavy machinery, even the streets outside were devoid of all sound. Y/N felt tempted to lean in after she removed her hand from Alfie’s face but resisted. He stared into her eyes with that look only he could give, the one that made her scared, weak, and in love all at once.

“What would I do without you?” He asked, quieter than his normal speaking volume.

“Probably combust into flames.” She shrugged. He let out a scoff laugh and Y/N chuckled. The pair sat in silence for a few minutes longer while Alfie ate and Y/N organized his space.

A few hours later Y/N and Alfie were doing what they usually did during a normal day at the bakery. Y/N’s workload was a bit different and more stress inducing, she had to call and reschedule all of Alfie’s canceled meetings and adjust inventory and compensation for all the workers Alfie let off early. Y/N knew these extra tasks on top of her usual work load would have her in the office later than usual. Alfie worked on his own paperwork, sorting contracts and things alike. They worked in silence how they usually do, but today was different. The silence surrounding the bakery was deafening, and the tension was palpable.

Y/N sighed and looked out the window, the snow falling quicker than it was earlier. Her walk home was going to be miserable. She knew Alfie had men following her to ensure her safe return, but she always insisted she walk to and from work to maintain her independence. Alfie decided to have men follow her without her knowledge, but Y/N was Alfie’s secretary, she signed off on the raise for that task.

“Alright, treacle, I’m takin’ the car home, the roads should be clear for a while longer from what I ‘eard.” Alfie spoke, breaking the silence. He stood and put his hat and coat on, walking to the door as his cane quietly clanked on the wooden floorboards. He stopped at my desk and opened his hand out to me.

“C’mon now, love, day’s over.” Alfie spoke. Y/N shook her head and looked back at her ledger.

“You go on home Alfie, I still have meetings to rearrange and set up on top of going through today’s accounts and a few other tasks. I’ll see you in the morning if the roads are cleared up.” Y/N dismissed Alfie, continuing to write.

“M’not leavin’ ya’ here to freeze, treacle. Stop bein’ stubborn and let me take you home.” Alfie grunted, getting frustrated with the determined woman who sat in front of him.

“You and I both know I won’t be leaving this office any time soon, and I won’t let you wait for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Alfred.” Y/N spoke, a bit of irritation in her tone. Alfie sighed, when she called him Alfred whatever she was saying was final, no if’s, and’s, or what's about it. He nodded to her and left his office, deciding to wait outside of the bakery in the snow for her to finish up. He would show her she wasn’t the only hard headed worker in the bakery.

Y/N continued on working like normal, telling herself she was most likely going to crash on the couch in the office to avoid the storm. It had been about an hour later when she decided to take a break and call up her friend Myrtle, Ollie’s wife.

Alfie on the other hand, cursed himself and Y/N for being so stubborn as his joints ached in the cold winter air. Alfie used his key to reenter the bakery, rubbing his hands together and deciding to go and get Y/N, whether she came willingly or not.

Y/N walked about the office while chatting with Myrtle.

“What in gods name are you still doing down at the bakery at this hour? Didn’t that Solomons let everyone go home early?” Myrtle questioned on the other line. Y/N huffed.

“Yeah I would’ve been home early today if that damned man didn’t cancel all his meetings. I was left behind to clean up the mess.” Y/N complained. Alfie stood outside of the open office door and held himself back for yelling at her for that rubbish she was spreading.

“Oh please Y/N, we both know you could’ve done that work tomorrow and the bakery would still remain unchanged. You just want to please that boss of yours.” Myrtle scoffed. Y/N huffed and played with the cord of the phone.

“I do not want to please him! I just prefer to be organized! Can you blame me for being good at my job?” Y/N ranted. Alfie felt a bit bad for listening in, but then again he’s probably done worse than light eavesdropping.

“Sweetheart, you only need to be good at your job during working hours. Cooking his meals and walking his dog is hardly under the job description of a secretary. That’s the job of a wife.”

“Well, he isn’t married! He only has one maid and she’s not getting any younger, you saw Edith at the market last week, she looked weak. I’m just giving a bit of extra help to his household.” Y/N continued to defend herself.

“Why can’t you admit you are in love with him darling? After I told Ollie I loved ‘em he basically pushed me into the synagogue and had us married.” Myrtle urged. Y/N sighed but smiled nonetheless at the love those two shared.

“I can’t ever be in love with my boss, Myrtle. It’s incredibly inappropriate, he would never love me back, and I care about him too much to toss what we already have in the trash.” Y/N spoke, pushing tears back.

“You’ll never know until you just tell him! Things don’t have to be different Y/N, he might love you too! And with the way you care for him? You’re practically betrothed without all the fuckin!” Myrtle exclaimed. Y/N laughed.

“Yeah well, the only man I would consider fucking is a man who will never love me the way I love him. Alfred Solomons has made it very clear I am not a woman he would ever desire.” Y/N spoke, trying to stop her throat from closing up. She came to that conclusion after overhearing Alfie saying he would never date or marry, especially a hard headed woman, he said he wouldn’t have the time or energy for a woman of that caliber. So, Y/N knew he didn’t want her.

“An’ who the fuck told you that?” Alfie spoke from the doorway. Y/N jumped and turned to see Alfie there with his hat and coat in hand, placing his cane against the wall.

“Did he just hear everything you-”

“I will call you later Myrtle.” Y/N spoke, her eyes still wide and her heart now beating rapidly. She ended the call and avoided Alfie’s eyes.

“I-I’m sorry Mr. Solomons. Please can we just forget everything? I don’t want to ruin anything and I need this job! I am so embarrassed I can’t believe I-”

“Christ woman, would you shut up?” Alfie called out, rubbing his beard. Y/N’s mouth snapped shut and she grew even more nervous.

“I never would’ve thought you’d go for a bloke like me. I’m fuckin’ criminal, dove. I steal, I kill, I lie, and I’m a selfish bastard. I know I’m no good for ya, but because I am such a selfish bastard, I plan on keeping you all to myself if you’ll allow it. Judgin’ by you wantin’ to fuck me an’ all, I think we’re in agreement, yeah?” Alfie spoke, placing his hat and coat on Y/N’s desk before approaching where she stood in the middle of the office. Y/N’s cheeks flushed.

“So, you… want to be with me?” Y/N questioned, looking up into Alfie’s eyes. Alfie scoffed.

“If I knew you were this daft, I wouldn’tve hired ya.” Alfie joked. Y/N laughed and gently smacked his arm.

“You couldn’t tell your head from your ass wihtout me, Solomons.” Y/N replied. Alfie’s face spread out in his beautiful grin he rarely showed off.

“An’ that’s why I fuckin’ need you more than air, dove.” Alfie muttered, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. Y/N moaned into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his thick hair. He responded by placing one large hand across her back, pulling her flush to him, while the other hand gripped her waist. Alfie’s beard scratched Y/N’s face in the best way, and the feeling of his coarse beard hair coupled with his plump lips against his had her melting in his hands.

The sound of a loud bang pulled the couple away from each other. The bakery had gone pitch black, the snow storm knocking the power out. They both took deep breaths and looked around in the darkness until the pair managed to light enough candles to light up the small room.

The warmth of the candlelight surrounded them both as Alfie picked Y/N up, laying her down gently on the couch.

“How about I show you just how bad I want to fuck you, yeah?”

[1-800-imagines]

then | changes part 8

masterlist of series

authors note: kind of a transition chapter, not the best, i apologize. ALSO this fic is obvi not cannon and selina kyle is not in it so i am adapting around that, some events are out of order

PRINCESS OF GOTHAM DEAD

the text scrolled across the screen and you bit your lip.

you bounced your leg as you watched the press release. usually it would be thomas you would be thomas you would be bouncing, but he was making his first public appearance today.

jim gordon was currently standing outside the gotham precinct talking to the reporters where they were all hungry for bruce’s appearance.

everyone had decided it be necessary to have thomas be there as no one would believe you dead if thomas were no where to be found either.

gordon stepped up to the mic. everyone had been in arms about your 'death' as you were a far different target than the mayor, the commissioner, and the da.

"it is with great sorrow to announce that y/n y/l/n was tragically murdered last night by the riddler. we know this without a doubt and we are using all of our resources to find him. a tape has been leaked of y/n's death and we are advising the public not to listen out of respect of her family. now a word from mr. wayne, her fiancé." jim finished.

bruce walked out of the precinct doors carrying thomas. bruce stepped up to the mic and cleared his throat, "this is the second person the riddler has hurt because of me. first alfred, now y/n." thomas started to whine, “this is our child, thomas bruce wayne jr or tommy as y/n called him. he’s without a mother now.” you could see the pain in bruce’s face as he spoke these words as they were his biggest fears and he needed to make it seem realistic.

you swallowed hard you were worried about the two of them being in such a public place when the riddler was clearly obsessed with him.

“she was a great woman and an even better mother. i should have made better use of our time together. that’s all, thank you.” bruce said and walked back inside as the reporters went wild with questions.

your heart broke, seeing the pain in bruce’s eyes knowing he meant every word of it. tears streamed down your face as you clicked off the tv.

“would you like some tea, ms. y/n?” you heard the voice around the corner, wiping the tears away from your cheeks.

you stood up, “dotty?” you asked softly. you knew she was around, but you hadn’t seen her during your arrival last night.

“i didn’t mean to interrupt. i made you tea. i thought you might like some.” she said, walking in and presenting you tea, just how you liked it.

“you remembered.” this made the tears come falling again and your knees buckled. dotty had always made you tea when you weee upset when you were a teenager, it had been a staple comfort item and a bonding moment between the two of you.

dotty quickly put the tray down and rushed to your side, “sweet girl, everything will be alright. you’re home safe again. we will take care of you.”

you leaned into her shoulder, just as you had when you were a young teenager, “how can anything be the same?” you whispered.

“well it won’t be and it shouldn’t be. there’s a baby now. and if that doesn’t make you want to work things out with him, i don’t know what will.” she said, stroking your hair.

you sniffled, “i’m just so worried about him.”

“well aren’t we all, but now he has someone to come home to besides just me and silly alfred.”

you hugged her a final time, “thank you dot.”

your phone beeped and you looked at it. it was a text from bruce with a link to a news article titled SECRET LOVE CHILD OF LATE Y/N Y/LN AND BRUCE WAYNE? FIND OUT MORE TONIGHT

you swore, you knew that meant reporters would be swarming the manor trying to get more pictures of thomas, especially after that pressconference. there was nowhere safe for them to go in gotham. you needed to find the riddler and be done with this, fast.

thankfully, bruce and tommy would have a police escort back to the house later, but you had gone down to start analyzing the latest letter. as you were about to shut down the computers a pattern in the code caught your eye of your initials. you erased all of those symbols which pertained and it spelled out perfect, ‘44’.

you felt sick, you never wanted to step foot in the iceberg lounge or 44 below again. your last name was a legend in that club because of your father as he was known to take any hit job no matter the target, no questions asked. a year after he had killed your mother, you went looking for answers and had a horrible encounter with falcone and the penguin. if it hadn’t been for young bruce, you wouldn’t have made it out alive.

but you knew you were the only one who was going to get in, even if you were supposed to be dead.

[skyfallslayer]

Black Dahlias For The Waynes - Ch. 3

Chapter 3: The Bat Is In The Details (iii)

Series Masterlist

Story Pairings: Bruce Wayne & Alfred Pennyworth; Bruce & Female!Dick Grayson; Alfred & Female!Grayson; Jim Gordon & Bruce

Chap Summary: Bruce might not be actually using his head when he says those words to Alfred, and well... Looks like his Butler wasn't having it.

Story Rating: Mature

Warning: Possible OOC? (I'm still learning how to right Battinson Bruce/Batman; And Serkis Alfred as well); Mature Language; Mention of Corpses; Blood; References to Past Trauma; References to (past/present) Anxiety & Depression; Slight References to racism towards foreigners; Acrophobia (The fear of heights). Read at your OWN risk!

A/N: Also, sorry for the long wait. I usually post my work first on Ao3 and then I completely forgot to post it on here! So sorry!

The·Devil·Is·In·The·Details

Idiom

Something that may seem simple

from a distance, but when you look

closer there are problems coming.

________________________________________________________

It was like looking into a fucking mirror.

Oh fuck—

Is that what he looked like? 

Was he pale and shell-shocked? Was he frozen too just before screaming? Did the light in his eyes expire as well? Nobody witnessed it except for him, so he couldn’t truly see what it did to him, but now…

He can see it. His reflection. The same scream he gave when his parents could no longer blink. 

It was gut wrenching. But it didn’t end there, even with the tent almost empty from the audience, the nightmare didn’t end for the circus performers. After what felt like you could hear a pin being dropped because it was so quiet, the work wasn’t done when everyone could hear the sobs and choking from above. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he saw so many attempts by the performers to get the girl to come down from the tower.

One by one they would go up carefully, treating her like glass, trying not to be too pushy, but their attempts kept failing. Was it because she was too out of it? Or was it because they were also emotionally destroyed by what they just witnessed?

‘When are the police showing up? Maybe they can get her down.’

‘Could we cover their bodies? Would that be better for her?’

‘Do we have to be more firm?’

Bruce's jaw clenched from the same spot he once was seated at. Their words struck all kinds of emotions, and made him debate what would be best to get a traumatized kid down from the platform. This situation was… well… sort of new to him, it’s-

“Bruce?” Alfred said quietly, pulling him from his overworking brain. “I know what you’re thinking, I would usually lecture you not to interfere but…” The twitch in his jaw told someone how uneasy he was feeling right now. “It’s a child.”

Bruce swallows. 

I know. 

He couldn’t speak, which I guess was understandable. He just nodded and was about to take a step towards uncertainty when his bicep was pulled to a stop.

“But… be Bruce Wayne, not the other guy.” Alfred warns softly. “Don’t scare her. Do…” He pauses at a memory of his own “D-Do what I did when it happened to you. Okay?”

When the hand left the billionaire’s arm, he cautiously made his way over to the group of people, Alfred a few steps behind him. Eyes were immediately on him, bloodshot and protective, but he didn’t let that stop him from trying.

“Easy…” He begins, hands slightly raised for effect (he didn’t want to seem off by standing still like usual). “I’m just here with an offer.” How should he put this without sounding creepy? “Let me talk to her.”

A man, the juggler, scoffed. “W-What?” 

“You know me. You obviously know me from the announcement earlier, so you know what happened to me.” He watched their faces fall with sympathy, his words finally having meaning. “Let me try. Because I speak for this city, not all the cops are going to be nice trying to get her down.”

Now their looks were cast to the ground, everything coming apart.

It was heartbreaking to look at. This family was-

“Give it a go.” The ringleader said, his voice barely heard. The older man seemed too messed up to even argue a reason not to, which unfortunately favored in Bruce’s way.

Bruce doesn’t say anything, just a little movement in his head as walks forward. He starts to feel small though. History repeating itself. He found himself a young boy again. The heavy stares he was getting was like the crowd full of media, dying to have a word with him moments after his parents’ deaths; He could almost still feel his new appointed guardian’s hand on his lower back, guiding him to the car. His heart skipped a beat, his fingertips brushing against the latter as he looked up. The platform seems so far away now. He could feel the cold, wet air again as he stared at the tower, his home, that’ll be missing two people. The sign of his last name made him sad, made him guilty, angry and wished he could tear it down. 

But that was years ago, he’s not that little boy anymore, that moment has passed. Now… 

He’s gotta be a safe haven.

So he climbs. Anxious as he gets to the top, feet planted as steady as he could. 

Breathe. Keep your composure.

But it’s so hard when the child locked eyes with him. Glitter and mascara streaks just below orbs of (dull) sapphires. Bruce takes her form in, studying, picking up signals. It was subtle but he catches the way her arms tighten around her upright knees, a protective barrier from a stranger like him.

He’s been there before too.

Yet after all these similar experiences, he didn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to start this type of conversation in this type of situation? He racked his brain for somethings, anything, all while the girl shrunk in on herself some more.

“W-Who are you…?” She croaks, voice dry and trembling.

Great. Great first impression. Scare the kid, Bruce. He scolded himself, but never let his “failure” show up on his face.

“I’m Bruce.” He states softly. “I’m here to get you down. Your-” How should he put this? Acquaintances? Family? Or was that too soon? “Your… friends are worried about you.”

A twinge of guilt flashed across her features, before she sinks further into herself, looking away from his gaze. Shit— He knew he wasn’t good at this. What was he supposed to say next? Was there something Alfred said that he could borrow? He could…Well… 

Maybe not.

It wouldn’t be the same. Alfred knew him already, knew what made him tick, but Bruce was completely lost. Even after studying her for a few brief moments it wasn’t enough to tell him everything. 

He tries not to deflate, nor cross into damaged territories. “Look, Kid, we-”

“I should have done something.” She said it so quietly, but the tremble in her voice was so loud.

Her knuckles turn white. The lost light in her eyes.

Oh no.

He knows what this is. He knows where this is going. 

“I should have said something.” She continues, Bruce’s stomach twisting. “I heard a noise, I-I… I almost s-saved… I sh-should’ve been quicker-”

“Don’t do that.” Those words were pried out of him, covered in the thick emotions that he didn’t volunteer. “Don’t say that. Don’t…” He trails off and thinks -no- wishes—

Don’t end up like me. 

She blinks, and stares. He could feel her studying him in return.

“But it’s true.” She adds, and her next sentence was like a stab to the heart. “I failed them.”

So this was like a fucking mirror. This was so horrifyingly familiar.

.

The ever so tired looking cop shook his head as he spoke those words. The cop mutters something along the lines of, ‘Your parents could never think of you as a failure’, while slinging the coat around his shoulders comfortably.

.

Bruce tried not to swallow noticeably. “Do you think they would want you to think that?” He pulled it from Gordon’s script of that night. “Do you think that they would want you to feel that way?” Alfred’s script. The only two people who could knock some sense into him.

“You don’t know what they would have wanted.” She snapped after shaking her head. “You didn’t-” She shutters. “You don’t know them.” 

A few tears fall.

Fuck. He was really bad at this.

“Okay.” He ponders. “I get it.” Something else comes to mind. “I don’t know them, however, wouldn’t you think they would want you to be happy?”

And that broke the dam. Those salty tears running down her cheeks as her sobs made an appearance again. 

“I-I g-guess your ri-right…” She chokes, shaking.

Great. Great comforting skills. He tells himself, but he couldn’t stop there, even if he couldn’t dig himself out of this hole he’s made.

“Hey,” He softens again, just in time to be a hypocrite. “It’s okay to be sad that they’re gone, cause I’ve been in your shoes before, I know how this feels. But… your mother and father wouldn’t want you to carry all that guilt. Not if they really loved you.”

That seemed to do the trick, her whole body relaxing now, but still was on edge just in case.

“So, will you come down now?” He asked, swearing he could hear sirens in the distance; Hoping they give him just a little more time.

She nods steadily, and exposes herself a little more–

His heart stopped when he saw the color red.

Blood. Blood all over her left shoulder.

When did she-? He thinks, his mind racing again.

It hits him like a ton of bricks.

The snap. The shirek.

The shriek of pain just before-

She ashened under his staring, and almost completely closed up again when he cautiously put his hands up.

“Easy.” Sorry. “Didn’t mean to stare.” He says, truthfully, sounding apologetic. “I just notice you’re injured and-”

“It’s not deep.” She cuts him off, trying to subconsciously hide it with her knees again.

“Okay. That’s good.” It was like a sigh of relief. He starts tugging off his suit jacket, which makes her squirm a little.

“I said it’s not-”

“I know.” He holds it out, feeling like he’s walking on eggshells at the moment. He just wanted that look of uneasiness on her face to go away. “But I think everyone down there might.” He lightly gestures to down below. “So unless you don’t want to worry anyone, then you might want to put this on.”

She scoots back a millimeter.

“I won’t touch you.” He assures.

He did at a snail-like pace, but he managed to circle the jacket around her whole form, holding it open wide enough for her to get the silent message to slide her arms through. He lets go, watching her uncurl and pulls the fabric around her, engulfing her small body. Bruce then lets himself stand up, giving her enough space.

It was like watching a newborn calf trying to get up, she was slowly trying to ascend on her wobbly feet, but kept sinking up against the post. Her eyes went straight to the floor, looking nauseous at the thought they were so high up.

A newfound fear. 

Fuck.

Afraid of a thing you love.

Bruce watched her swallow, before looking at him with pleading eyes.

Fuck. Those were one hell of a gut wrench to look at.

To his surprise, she reached out for him, palm with micro spots of red and crescent moon indents (Yeah, those were familiar too). He took her hand heedfully, pulling her slowly up, guiding her to the edge where the ladder was. The people down below who’s faces flushed with relief didn't seem so far to Bruce, but the trembling expression she now wore told him that she felt a million miles up in the sky.

Her hand squeezed his roughly, cracking his own knuckles. Despite the sting, he still looks at her calmly. “We’re not going to let you fall.” He assures her.

I won’t let you fall. He assures himself.

Her eyes flooded with trust, as she carefully turned and stepped down the ladder, letting her hand slip away slowly. 

It didn’t seem that far down to him before, but now, it was starting too as he descended, the feeling of what was going to come next was the worst. He knows what’s next: the police, the questions, the media, etc. He knows what’s coming and-

Damn, those sirens were getting louder. Couldn't they give him more time?

“Rachel!” The ringleader boomed, his arms snaking around the girl as she collapsed into him. Every other member around him sighed, and silently thanked the universe that she was safe.

Bruce stepped to the ground, feeling Alfred's worried presence coming up to him. The lion tamer briefly turned and smiled.

“Thank you.” She mouths, before turning her attention on her family.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred whispers, as footsteps belonging to the law made their mark. 

But he said nothing, his focus still on the girl engulfed in warm arms. No, not on the bodies behind him; Not on the parental figure next to him; Not on the GCPD men and women he’s memorized.

No.

He kept his focus on her. Because Dory hugged him like that when he got home.

Fuck.

This was like a mirror.

Bruce lingered, staying close enough to the kid, but also out of arm's reach to not feel invasive. It was a hard scene to swallow, hard to keep the girl’s eyes away from the yellow tape and black body bags, still shaking and whimpering at the sight of forensic experts. To get a medic near her was hard too, that’s when he had to get a little closer, his presence calming her enough to get the woman to clean and bandage.

He ignores the stares too. I mean…

He feels out of place. He feels like he’s crossing into a territory that he shouldn’t. He feels like this should be a private affair, between the girl and her circus family. He shouldn’t be here. Yet he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the tent so soon.

“Miss Grayson, I presume?” The tired Jim Gordon said, with his tiny yellow notebook in hand. 

The girl nods slowly, shifting in her seat on the bleacher. “Y-Yes.” She replies, nervously. The medic disappeared shortly afterwards, muttering something to the cop before he could start asking questions.

His face was gentle, a bit business like, but still gentle. The same expression he made to another child on a certain night. Bruce knows where this is heading. He remembers this conversation so clearly.

“I’m detective James Gordon, and I just want to ask you some questions if that’s okay?” He asks, cautiously (he must see how fragile she looks too).

The girl looked unsure at first, subconsciously pulling the jacket closer on her body, looking so small again, uncomfortable. 

“It’s okay. I can come back if you like?” He continues.

Bruce starts to wonder if he should leave too. He knows Alfred’s waiting for at the exit, so maybe this is the sign he needs (but in reality could he truly leave a scene like this behind without knowing the conclusion?).

“I…” He begins, getting their attention. “I can leave if you’d like? I’m probably making you uncomfortable.”

Mixed emotions bloomed across her face, while Gordon shifted his stance, still a little surprised to run into the man that's seldomly seen.

“Well, I need an adult to accompany her since she’s a minor-” Gordon begins, thinking. “So, if you want Miss Grayson, I can wait until Mr. Haly is done speaking with-”

“Bruce can stay.” She says, quickly. She looks between the two older men, almost surprised by her own reaction. “If…” Her eyes land on Bruce, looking like a kicked puppy. “If that’s okay with you… Sir?”

Bruce saw those eyes again, which was another wrench to the gut.

Damn.

This kid was hitting places he didn’t know he had (Or were years being a vigilante numbing those places?).

“Okay.” Gordon replies, taking what he could get. “Is that okay with you, Mr. Wayne?”

“Yes.” Bruce replies, calmly, also ready to take what he could get out of this. Unnoticed, of course.

“Okay.” He raises his pen to the paper, ready for any clues that would be useful. “So, Miss Grayson-”

“Rachel.” She corrected.

“Alright, Rachel.” He straightens up again. “May I ask from your point of view what happened?”

She paled, but she straightened up herself to ‘tougher’ (For herself or towards the detective, it was still hard to tell). “I… I don’t really know, Mr. Gordon.” She replies, truthfully. “Everything seemed fine. M-My parents started their part of the act, and then I was about to join in wh-when i-it…” Rachel bite her lip to keep the tears at bay. “Y-You know… sn-snapped…”

“Snapped?” Gordon said, earning a nod. “Did anything seem out of place during the performance? Or before? After?”

Rachel half shrugs. “I-I heard… something, I think. Right b-before…” She looks at her feet. “Right before they started their act, I heard a faint sound coming from the rope. I… I-I ignored it though, I didn’t think much of it.”

“So you heard a sound? Can you describe it?”

“It… It sounded like… I don’t know, creaking. I’m not sure. It was so quiet. Thought I almost imagined it.”

“Okay.” He jotts some notes down quickly. “So you heard a noise before your parents’ act. Anything els-”

“It shouldn’t have broken like that.” Rachel says, abruptly. There was slight anger on her face that Bruce wasn’t expecting to see (or at least see it so soon).

“I’m sorry?” Gordon said, confused.

“It shouldn’t have broken.” She repeats, tears in her sapphires, but irritation in her pupils. “That trapeze is brand new. It shouldn’t break.”

Both men look stunned at her words. Was she implying-?

Gordon clears his throat. “Well, Rachel, I have been in cases where brand new things resulted in injury or even death. Especially with something of this size it’s-”

“I get that, Detective. I get what you’re saying.” She says, a bit harsher than she wanted. “But it’s protocol for us to change it when we travel a great distance. Gotham is the first city on our America tour, so this is brand new. If you don’t believe me we still have the crate it came in-” 

She gestures to the outside of the tent, and finishes with “-And we always, always, triple check the trapeze before every show. So it was fine before the show started. So how come it decided to break like that?”

Bruce could feel himself holding his breath, because he knows her underlying meaning towards those words. 

No. She can’t be thinking what I’m thinking this is. He tells himself, just as Gordon spoke.

“Rachel, are you… implying that the equipment was sabotaged?” He asks, slowly picking up any signs that would prove he was in the wrong. “Are you implying that your parents were…?”

Murder. Bruce’s eyes snapped to hers subtly. God he hopes he was wrong. He hoped that maybe he was looking into this too much, but if the kid thinks it-

They’re fucked.

Rachel swallowed, but stayed strong despite her orbs glassing over. “I’m not saying it was, but this is Gotham isn’t it? And tonight's performance was all about showing the people that the city was finally reopening. So don’t you think it’s odd that a death happened?” She explains, brows pushed together. “But who knows though, maybe it was an equipment failure, but I’m telling you detective that it shouldn’t have broken the way it did. Trust me.” 

Murder. She thinks it’s murder too. Fuck. He scolded, and waited to see what the cop’s reaction to her allegations were. But the look on his face told him that Gordon thought it all made sense too.

“That’s a bold statement Rachel, and I’ll have to take it with a grain of salt for right now.” Gordon said, keeping his stature. “However, may I ask who put up the trapeze today? Just so I can ask them some questions too.”

“Yeah.” She frowns sadly. “It was my father, Conner, and… I think it was Kenji? Or Daniel? One of those two. But that’s all I know.”

“And that’s fine. I appreciate your cooperation.” He faces Bruce, who tries his best not to look on edge. “Now, Mr. Wayne, has anyone interviewed you for your statement yet?”

“No, sir.” Bruce said, setting his own thoughts aside.

“Well, do you mind if I ask you some questions?” Gordon asked, flipping to a new page.

“I don’t.”

“Good. So, Mr. Wayne-”

“Excuse me, Detective.” The voice of Officer Martinez said, an unsettling expression bestowed on his face. “Sorry to interrupt, but the kid’s gotta go. Commissioner Loeb’s orders.”

“Go? To the station? Already?” Gordon asked, surprised. 

He kept his voice low, not wanting the girl to hear. “Not to the station. To Juvie.”

“What?”

“Why Juvie?” Bruce couldn’t help but ask, because… what and why?          

Martinez looked torn between sharing it with a civilian, but it looks like he didn’t have much choice, the look on the billionaire’s face was enough to tell the officer he wasn't going to be backing down any time soon.

His focus remained on his superior, but still paid heed to the other adult. “Since the kid isn’t technically a U.S. citizen, and since she's blood to the victims, she’s a suspect.” He explained, painfully.

“A suspect?” Gordon asked, irritated by this call. “So we need to take her to the station. Or keep her somewhere in arms reach in case she actually is responsible.” 

“I get it, Gordon, but this isn’t our call. She’s gotta go there.” He frowns. “Trust me, a couple other detectives tried to push their luck with Loeb, and he ain’t going to budge.”

“Martinez-”

“It’s alright, Detective.” Rachel’s voice slithers through the harsh whispers. All eyes were on her as she stood up, fixing the jacket as she became small again. “I understand. I’ll go.”

Gordon’s face dropped, almost looking pitiful now. “Are you sure? I can try pulling a few strings.”

“It’s fine.” She flashes a small genuine smile. “Thank you, Detective. I hope you can figure out what happened.” She turns towards the other man who she can’t thank enough. “And thank you, Bruce. For helping me tonight.”

Before either of them could get a sentence out, she bows her head as she follows the apologetic Martinez, leaving behind a feeling of hollowness, sitting on something empty that Bruce knew wasn’t right. Between leaving a child without parents, and the way she explained everything about the trapeze, he knows there’s something far more bigger than he expects this should be. Because Rachel was right about one thing.

This was Gotham after all.

“What will happen to her?” He asked, curious and concerned. He could only imagine what the next step they’ll take with this kid.

Gordon sighs. “Well, I’m not really sure. The original plan was just to keep the circus performers near the station so we can ask them questions, but it looks like since a lot of them are foreigners, including her, the people we suspect the most are going to have to be stationed somewhere… harsher.”

He notices Bruce’s slight disgust and continues, “I know. I don’t like that either, and frankly, between you and me Mr. Wayne, I don’t like the way Commissioner Loeb thinks. I’m going to try to see if I can get the Mayor to help with this case, maybe she can veto his ‘great’ ideas.”

Bruce watches the last bit of her disappear from the tent, his emotions weighing in again. “And if this does get vetoed, and she’s not a suspect, where will she go?”

Gordon blinks at that question, but still answers it. “Well, some of the circus members can take her in, but that’s only temporarily. Unfortunately, her parents left no will.” He raises an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

Silence, because it hurts. He’s been in the girl’s shoes before. He knows what it’s like to lose everything in one day.

.

“And it only takes ONE bad day to go insane, Batsy. I sure did.” The clown smile sent shivers down his spine.

.

That phrase sticks to him like glue, because Bruce knows if it wasn’t for Alfred pulling him back up from the other side, he’s not sure what he would have become. And that girl has nobody. 

He didn’t say anything about that, and just quickly, but politely, gave the older man his statement.

Bruce tugs on his collar and loosens his tie even more as he makes his way towards Alfred who was at the edge of the tent. The man had his arms crossed, the slit of moonlight hitting his skeptical features. He didn’t look quite happy either.

“Did you give them your statement?” Bruce asked, right as he brushed past him, hurrying them both outside.

“I did. I suppose you did as well, Sir?” Alfred said, following closely. The parking lot was pretty much empty except for a few seemingly unoccupied cars that weren’t police related. A perfect isolated spot for his questioning. “And what was all that about?”

“All about what?” He kept his focus ahead, beelining for the passenger side of the car. 

But Alfred wasn't having it. He slammed his palm on the door, his arm stretched out between the vehicle and his master. He gave him a stern look. 

“Look, sometimes it’s hard for me to read what is going on in that head of yours, but I do know when you turn on that detective brain.” Alfred points out. “So what were you asking Mr. Gordon?”

Bruce’s focus ended up anywhere but the man in front of him, knowing well enough he’s cornered. “I was asking what was going to happen to Rachel.”

“Rachel?”

“The girl.”

“I figured that’s what you were asking. But what for?” He tilted his head, looking for an answer. He was met with a long silence, which was enough for him to know what his intentions were. “You want to take her in?”

Alfred was met with an even stare of his Master; his arms stiff and lips pursed together. Not the first time he’s seen this look either, but there was something else in those eyes that he hasn’t seen before. 

“Bruce… are you sure?” He asked, still stern, but more in a softer tone. This man had just witnessed history’s repeat, and knew that it was hitting all the right nerves. “Are these the emotions talking? Or is this actually your head? Because-”

He lightly touches Bruce’s shoulder. “I don’t doubt you and that heart of yours, and forget the financial cost of this idea, but this is a huge responsibility. If you do this, this is a non-stop, 24/7 job. Probably more pressure and more responsibility than your night job.”

Bruce tightens his jaw, his gaze becoming more dead serious now. “I know. But what happened to Edward Nashton and to any other orphans shouldn't have happened to her. At least when it happened to me I had you to back me up when I lost everyone. She doesn’t.”

Alfred raised an unconvincing eyebrow. “And… that's the only reason behind all this?”

“You know the answer to that.” Came the quiet tone, along with the distant glint again. Bruce could see something haunting that the other man couldn’t. “I listened to her statement, there’s something more going on, and she deserves closure. She— They all do.”

Alfred lets out a puff of air, a small shake in his head before looking stern again. “And you’ll be there for her?” He begins, searching deep inside his ward. “And will you accept all the emotional baggage and possible burdens and/or… demons she may carry?”

A quicken heartbeat.

“Yes.” Came the short response.

“And you promise to change for her if necessary?”

There was a delay in Bruce’s eyes, but when he saw Alfred’s dour expression, he immediately changed. 

“Yes.” He replies, which was enough for the older man.

Bruce instantly opened the door when the Butler unlocked the car, and before he even thought about sliding in, his decision was put to the test yet again. 

“Let me say one more thing, Master Bruce.” Alfred begins, still holding up that somber exterior. He made sure his boy was giving him his whole undivided attention before continuing his last few thoughts. “I’ll do anything to make sure this whole thing will happen, but let’s make one thing clear, this is not my responsibility.”

He touches his chest to make a point, and resumes with, “Now I will feed her, talk to her, take her places if necessary, but that’s all limited. Because once you sign those papers she becomes your child. Which means, whatever problems she may face, whether that means she’s sustains an injury, or if she decides to start rebelling like a teenager, that’s not on me.”

He points to his ward. “That’s on you. That child is your daughter until the day you no longer walk this Earth. I know your mind’s already made up, but I want you to think about the weight that your name holds, along with that other guy may hold. So unless you think you’re ready to balance your multiple lives with parenthood, and promise to come home alive every night to that child, then go for it.”

Alfred’s shoulder sagged, his expression softened to concern. “But if you can’t commit to those things, then I’m sorry to say I will not stand by for you to hurt that child even more than she already is.”

He grows quiet and turns on his heels, walking away to the other side of the vehicle, where that would be the last thing other than ‘goodnight’ he would say. The car ride back to the tour was enough for everything to simmer in the young man’s mind.

You may call this tough love but it’s what Bruce needed to hear, but still— His mind was already made up, he wanted to take the girl in, but can he truly keep that promise? Can he really balance three lives at once? 

A big face for the city.

A creature of the night.

A parental figure for a hurt child.

Could he juggle all three? Or would he have to bury one for the kid’s sake?

_____________________________________________________________

A/N: So I felt like a lot of fics I read with Bruce adopting doesn't really show any "tough love" between him and Alfred, and since this is a still a younger Bruce Wayne I felt like he needed to get some sense knocked into him first before "officially" decides to adopt a kid. But that's just me wanting an excuse to write more interactions between the two men.

As always, Thanks for reading. Have a good rest of you day/night :D

Fics that have inspired my story/Fics that I love:

The Batman & Robin -DemonDean10

take these broken wings and learn to fly - fishingclock

The Batman: Into The Light - Bayfire

[dibs4ever]

Comfort

16 year old Dick Grayson was lying in his bed. Almost asleep after a long and stressful night as Robin when the door krept open

“Dick” came a soft voice. He knew this voice

Reaching over he turned on the bedside lamp, emitting a soft glow in the room

There Barbara stood in the door way, one of his t shirts on. He’d gave it to her to borrow for the night since the fellow 16 year old didn’t have anything but her Batgirl suit to sleep in.

“Hey.” Dick spoke sitting up a little higher in the bed

She stepped further into the room “Sorry, I woke you.”

He shook his head “No I wasn’t asleep”

Barbara shook her head “Don’t lie if you weren’t asleep I woke you from being close to it.”

He smiled she knew him so well “It’s fine I promise. You okay? Need me to check your wound?”

She moved further into the room, sitting on the edge of his bed “No, it’s fine. You patched it well.” She touched the bandaging on her left thigh

They exchanged half smiles before she continued

“I can’t stop thinking about my dad.” She sighed

Dick shook his head “Babs we found him.”

“Yeah after him being kidnapped for 5 hours. After I should have stopped it when those goons broke into our apartment “

Dick moved putting a hand on her shoulder “Don’t say that, for one they shot you in the leg and for two you were Barbara Gordon at that time. You could exactly go full on Batgirl”

She nodded “Yeah you got a point it’s just-Daddy could have died....he still could die Dick! He’s in rough shape.” tears began welling in her eyes. “I’m so worried about him. Worst part is I’m not allowed to see him till he wakes up . He’s hurt and uncomfortable in that hospital room alone”

The tears were falling

Dick couldn’t stand seeing his girl....his friend cry. In a swift motion he leaned forward pulling her to him. She fell into his chest curling herself around him. Although she was slightly taller than him, she still fit into him like a perfect mold

“Shhh” Dick whispered into her ear. Rocking her back and forth as he stroked her head “Don’t cry, it’ll be okay I promise “ he hoped he was right. They really had done a number on Jim.

She lied in his arms for a while. His sheer touch and presence bringing her comfort and relaxation

“Dick.” Barbara whispered pulling back just enough to be able to look at him

“Can I-can I stay with you?” She stuttered

Dick licked his lips. They hadn’t had a sleepover in the same bed since they were 13 -Jim and Bruce had decided with the onset of puberty their sleepovers would be better in separate beds. But Dick figured this would be an exception to the rule

“If that’s what you want.” He finally responded

She nodded moving away from his arms and crawling to lie down in his bed, under the covers “Just till I’m relaxed enough to go to sleep on my own. You-you make me feel safe and comfortable.” She spoke getting cozy on the opposite side of the bed. She lifted a side of the blanket inviting him under

He did so, once he was under she wrapped her arms around his neck hugging him and holding herself against him.

No more words were spoken, none needed to be. She lied there hugging him as if he were the last bit of safety she had. He soothingly rubbed circles on her back. Soon both their breaths getting heavy as they drifted to sleep.

Dick awoke in the morning to his bedroom door once again opening. This time Bruce. Dick jumped, he knew this looked bad. He was shirtless in bed with Barbara still hugging him tightly wearing his T-shirt

“Bruce this-I swear nothing. I’m a virgin and I promise she just needed-“

Bruce held up a hand. “I believe you. When she wakes tell her that her father is allowed visitors . Alfred has prepared breakfast and will drive her to the hospital when you finish.”

Dick nodded

“And Dick” Bruce continued

Barbara shifted, in her sleep state hugging Dick tighter. Her subconscious missing the warmth of his body “Yeah?”

Bruce shook his head “Don’t make sleeping with Ms.Gordon a regular thing”

Dick felt his face blush as his adoptive father walked out the bedroom door and he allowed her to pull him back down to her

[jeromesxreader16]

Such a Joker (54)

Part 53 Here!

~o0o~

"Who are you?" Bruce's voice booms through the study. He stares at his newly crafted parents with confusion, and shock. His mind must be going in circles. "Well, look who decided to join us," Martha speaks to her boy. "Hello, champ." Thomas follows.

"Master Bruce!" Alfred pops in with a tray of tea and biscuits. Bruce looks at his friend in shock. "Alfred, how did you..."

"Look at the state of you. What have I told you about rolling around in the muck?" Bruce stares at everyone, Jeremiah and I hide away watching for the time being.

"Alfred, what's going on? Who are these people?"

"Whatever do you mean, Bruce?"

"We're your parents." Silence from the billionaire boy Bruce Wayne.

"Right. Well, let's get you spruced up. After all, we have guests."

Jeremiah pulls us both out with smiles. His hand around my waist and his other raising a glass. "Welcome home, Bruce."

"Jeremiah. You're alive." Bruce's eyes travel to mine.

"Well, you didn't think Selina could kill me so easily, did you? Or that I'd ever leave my wife and my unborn sprees? I just had to put you off my scent until I could finalize my... project." Jeremiah pinches Martha's cheek. Bruce lunges for him before Alfred stops him. "Manners, Master Bruce. Let's not be rude to our guests."

I look to Bruce with a slight smile. If I play along I might be able to stay safer if I play the victim. I smile kissing Jer's cheek. "Especially when we come bearing gifts." I present the bomb to them all on the table. "Oh, Mrs. Valaska. A cake. How exceedingly kind of you. Is it Italian meringue?" I look back at Jeremiah with a smile, about to burst into laughter. He shrugs his shoulder. "Sure." Bruce strides towards me with fury, until Jeremiah pulls out the trigger.

"Now, now, Bruce, you come any closer and I blow up Wayne Manor, with all of us inside of it. I have a dozen more of these, uh, Italian meringues sprinkled throughout the house." Bruce glares at me with ill intent. "What did you do to Alfred? And who are these people?" I roll my eyes leaving Jerimiah's side and plopping on the couch. "Ah, glad you asked. Come."

Jer strolls over to look at Wayne's personalized smiles with Bruce. "Mommy and Daddy dearest were just an innocent couple I kidnapped based on... bone structure and, um... build. Just a touch of plastic surgery, and voila... Waynes. Alfred, I nabbed in the Green Zone." Bruce waves his hand in front of their faces, connecting the dots.

"They're hypnotized."

"Well, I'm afraid there was no room for improv in our script. Today is a... very important day, Bruce. Just look at the way they're dressed." I walk around Martha, admiring her pearls. "I like these, J." He hum. "I'll get you some just like it, love, but these ones are important for tonight." I giggle and kiss his cheek.

"It's the night my parents were killed," Bruce says with sadness.

"And I'm giving you the chance to experience it all over again."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? Bruce... this...this was the most important day of your life. And I didn't get to be a part of it. We didn't get to comfort you on your big day. We need to rectify that." I stretch my arms out, planting them on my swollen belly. "Alfred, is dinner done? I'm hungry."

Jeremiah nods looking at Alfred. "Chop-chop. We're on a very tight schedule. My wife needs to eat." Alfred bows his head. "Of course, Mr. Jeremiah."

Jeremiah pulls out a chair for me in the dining area. Very comfortable and quaint! Jeremiah passes me a plate full of fruits and toast. "Alfred told me such great tidbits about your childhood. Any jam, darling?" Jer paused to ask me. I shake my head, kissing his cheek. "No love."

He nods, "Anyways, yes, How you used to eat here, in the kitchen, when it was just you and the family. My, how... homey and intimate. That's exactly how I'm raising my children."

Alfred walks over with Jer's food. "Grilled cheese and Branston pickle sandwich, Mr. Jeremiah. Master Bruce's favorite. My influence, though Thomas did add a dash of aioli for extra flair." Jer looks at Bruce with judgemental eyes. "Oh. Come on, Bruce. That's a weird favorite food for a 12-year-old."

"I'm playing your game," Bruce says smacking the plate off the table. "Now let Alfred and these people go. They're innocent."

"I'm sorry, Bruce, it's just... it's very important to me that I get every detail exactly right. Speaking of which... the final touch. What was it like... losing your parents that night? I lost my family, too, Bruce. The wound still hasn't healed. I... think about it often." Jeremiah falls into his thoughts, trailing off.

"None of this is real. You're trying to manipulate me. It will never be real." Jer smirks seeing the despair and sadness on Bruce's face. "But you are thinking about that night. That's all I need. I just want to be connected to you. I offered for you to be my best friend! You could've been the godfather to my children. But I've realized if we... can't be friends... then we can be connected in other ways."

"How?" Bruce asks frightened.

"You'll see. In time." Jeremiah looks at his watch humming. "I'm sorry to cut tonight short... but... your parents and I have a very important date ...with destiny." He laughs as we stand up and disappear with the Waynes. "You might want to find your faithful butler and leave. Quickly." as we rush out of the home Bruce struggles to find his butler.

Jeremiah runs through the tunnels, dragging me behind. "Exhilarating. Isn't it love?" I grab the wall as we near the end. "I... I need to slow down." His face smooths and he presses his hand to my back. "Aw, my love, I'm sorry. Giving you a hard time today?" His hand comes to my stomach and the twins kick excessively. "When you're around." I laugh leaning onto the soft fabric of his blazer. Jer looks down at me with sad eyes. "This is dangerous. You shouldn't be here." I furrow my brows. "You brought me along!" "And it was foolish of me. Gents, for the rest of the night, keep my wife safe. At safe blast range."

~

"Jeremiah!" Bruce calls in the theater. "Show yourself!"

The screen starts running a film. "Ol?! Hola, Bruce." Jeremiah swings in the frame on the big screen. "Well, here we are, the theater where your mommy and daddy took you to see The Mark of Zorro. Ha-ha! I had heard you were obsessed with this man as a child. I wonder what was it

that intrigued you so? Was it the fact that he struck fear into the hearts of his enemy?" Jeremiah in his costume fights off his enemies on the screen.

"En garde! Take that, you villain."

Jer looks into the screen. "Perhaps the movie was a bit too effective. Isn't this the part where you became frightened? When you asked your parents to leave? I wonder what would have happened if you hadn't done that. If you had conquered your fear. Maybe your parents would still be alive."

"Well, on to the last and final stop down memory lane."

~

Bruce runs out of the theater in a sprint. He stops in his tracks when he sees Jerimiah and I. "Stop! Stop! That's far enough, Bruce."

"Jeremiah. You don't have to do this."

"But I... I do. You see, I-I came to this realization. I realized that no matter what I did to bond us, some random gunman in an alley would be the man who you were tied to the most. The man you saw when you closed your eyes. I want to be the star of the show! Jeremiah says dramatically. "So if I can't have you as a brother bonded by love, then we'll just have to be bonded by hatred." Bruce huffs at him in anger. "And you think killing two people that look like my parents will do that? It won't."

Jer tightens his grip on me. "Well, then it's a good thing I already put a bullet in both of their fraudulent skulls." I look up at him with furrowed brows. "You said-" "Oh, you're both confused. How sweet." I look back to the couple with their backs facing us. "Jer, who is that?"

"You're wondering if I already shot them, then who's this lovely couple?" I jerk away from Jerimiah in an attempt to see the two. "No."

"Thomas, Martha...why don't you turn around?" Tears well in my eyes. "Jer, why?" He looks down at me with venom. "It's always been a roadblock, darling. Even for Jerome. With Jim in the way. No family of ours will survive. So why not have some fun with it, huh?" He winks at me. "No! You- you can't. These kids need him." "They need me," Jerimiah says with a smirk. "And so do you, doll."

"See, Bruce throughout our little adventure, fate brought to me James Gordon and Leslie Thompkins, and I thought to myself, why not... why not kill the man who you think of as your second father figure? And your dear, dear, dear friend Lee Thompkins. And when I do, finally, you and I will be bound together. Because you see...reunification with the mainland hangs on by a thread. Those fireworks go off and toxic chemicals rain down onto the city, and the government...cuts us adrift for good." I let a tear fall. "Jeremiah, please. Don't" He hold me tighter, never letting go of his hold.

Jer pulls me to the car, shoveling me in. "Dad!" I scream over his shoulder.

"I had Jervis Tetch hypnotize them so that they'll wake up the moment these beautiful pearls hit the ground. I want you to see them realize what I've done to them as life drains from their bodies. Never forget, this is all for you, Bruce." Jerimiah hops into the car with me, closing the door as we speed off. I stay silent. Sitting alone. "Aw, darling. Come on now. You know I had to. A wife can never live a life with two sides. You'll understand one day." He kisses my cheek while looking out the windows at his destruction.

"You know... I always liked him." I look up across from me to see Jerome. "He got on my nerves, but he always kept it interesting, didn't he, doll?" I push a smile out on my lips, nodding. Jerome leans over and kisses my forehead. "Cheer up love. Look down, look at our kids. Give them a laugh for me. Keep that one in check." He winks before setting back and vanishing.

I shake my head pushing all the nerves back in my mind. "Jerimiah, love? Where are we going?" He smiles grabbing my hand. "To the finale." Rounding a corner I see the big illuminated letters of ACE Chemicals. The inside reeking of strong odors.

"Jeremiah! Face me!" Bruce's echoed scream bounced through the factory. "Here, Bruce," Jer calls loudly. I stay behind pipes, hidden away safely as Bruce runs after my mad husband.

"Jeremiah! This ends. Tonight."

Both gentlemen on the metal walkway above the vats of acid. Bruce hits Jerimaih making him stumble against the railing. "No, Bruce. Now it begins." Bruce kicks Jerimaih down the catwalk, towering him. "You feel it.

The connection between us. You do. Don't you? Bruce, you feel it." Bruce punches Jeremiah as he continues. "Tell me you feel it."

"You mean nothing to me."

Jerimiah's head butts Bruce before getting to his feet again. "Why don't you understand?" Jer grabs Bruce pushing him against the railing, causing it to bend. "You need me. I'm the answer to your life's question! Without me, you're just a joke...without a punch-" Jerimiah throws his hand at Bruce, but Bruce moves at the right time causing Jer to miss. His arm follows through in the wind, his body hitting the railing hard causing it to break and Jerimiah to fall into the vat. "NO!" I scream running over. Bruce tugs me back as I try to reach down into the vat. "(y/n), no!" I cry holding to the broken railing. "No... no..." I lower my head into my hands. They're both gone. I'm all alone now.

An ambulance rolls up fishing out Jerimiaha's body from the vat. "Miss." I continue to watch as Jerimiah's body is laid on a table and carried away. "Miss." I look up to see a nurse with worry-filled eyes. "I need you to come with me. You've been surrounded by hazardous chemicals. We need to make your child is okay." I nod numbly. Passing Bruce, keeping my head down. "(Y/n)," Bruce calls. "Let me follow." I nod without a word.

~

"Well, Mrs. Valeska. You're set. Two healthy twins." I nod standing. "Where is-" "Room 204. He's unconscious." "I don't care." I stand walking to the locked room, two guards on each side. "I'm his wife," I say before entering. In the bed, Jerimiah lays still, wrapped up in bandages from head to toe. I feel my tears well up with tears. "He did it to himself, doll. Nothing you could've done." Jerome kisses my shoulder, wrapping his arms around me. The ghostly feeling so comforting. I lay hand hands on his feeling the cold skin. "I wish you were here." "I know, but someone else is." The door opens and none other than my father walks in. "Dad." "Oh, my god." He covers his mouth, tears welling up, as he wraps me in his arms. "You're okay." I cry into his shoulder.

Selina and Bruce arrive in the room. "I can't believe he's still alive," Selina says with hatred, but I can't blame her. "They've been doing scans, and he has no brain activity," I say never taking my eyes away from Jer. "So, he's no longer a threat to you. To anyone." I turn around walking away from the room. "(Y/n)," Dad calls out. "Come home with me, honey. You need to be-" "Okay. I'll meet you there." I continue to walk out the doors into the dark night of Gotham, a quiet night. 

[redhoodedjaybird]

The house had never felt so quiet.

For a place so big and how few people occupied it, the silence seemed so much louder this time.

Deafening, even.

Something was wrong. Jason knew that, but he couldn’t quite place what it was, just like he couldn’t quite remember how he’d gotten back to the manor.

Only that the last thing he did remember was-.

It was gone again.

He’d been so forgetful lately. Enough that it was starting to worry him. Jason had tried to talk to Bruce about it, but his concerns seemed to fall on deaf ears, only frightening Jason further.

Why was Bruce acting so strangely?

Why, whenever Jason tried to speak, was he ignored? Why did everyone seem so upset by him so suddenly? Had he done something wrong?

Jason couldn’t remember.

It felt like time kept skipping forward haphazardly. One moment, Jason would be hovering in the kitchen doorway, asking Alfred what was for dinner. The next, seemingly in a blink, it was the middle of the night for no apparent reason.

Bruce had started going out without him. Jason thought he was supposed to know the reason why, but that too was lost in the fog that had settled over his memory of late. It must have been something terrible, Jason thought.

Why else would everyone be acting like he wasn’t there?

Jason couldn’t be sure how many days had passed. Sometimes it felt like they repeated, a strange sense of deja vu leaving Jason feeling all the more disoriented, confused, and increasingly lonely.

He thought he overheard Bruce talking to Alfred about funeral arrangements, but Jason didn’t know for whom. He hoped it wasn’t for anyone he knew. Jason already felt an overwhelming sadness over how disconnected he seemed from his family right now. It would break his heart if it was someone he was close to and nobody had bothered to tell him. He didn’t think he could cope with another loss.

The silence was too much.

It felt like it was eating away at everything. Time continued to slip through Jason’s fingers like trying to save a sandcastle from high tide.

“Bruce, please? Talk to me,” he pleaded tearfully, exhausted by the fear and confusion that had become Jason’s constant companions.

“Alfred! Somebody? Please? Someone tell me what I did so I can fix it!”

Nothing.

Jason was frantic, terrified by being shut out so thoroughly. It felt like it was only a matter of time before he was forced to leave and go back to having nothing.

To being nothing.

He sat at the foot of the stairs in the main hallway, sobbing desolately, bereft and bewildered, and frustrated at himself for being unable to figure out what he’d done to deserve the cold shoulder from everyone he held so dear.

Why were there flower arrangements everywhere? Why was the atmosphere so heavy?

Jason felt like a shadow.

Everyone was leaving again. Jim Gordon, Barbara, Alfred.

Bruce.

“Bruce! Stop, please? Stop ignoring me! I’m sorry, alright? Whatever I did, I’m so fucking sorry. Please? I’m begging you, just speak to me...” Jason choked out between sobs, getting up from where he’d been sitting on the stairs and following after him.

“DAD!”

Bruce hesitated.

“Dad, please. Talk to me,” Jason implored through his tears, the tiniest flicker of hope rekindling the moment he thought he’d gotten through.

Bruce turned around and looked at Jason.

No.

He looked through Jason, like he wasn’t there, Bruce’s expression one that Jason had never seen before and didn’t know how to read other than as pain.

“Dad?”

Bruce shook his head and turned back toward the door before leaving the manor.

“No! “Jason yelled out desperately, chasing him outside, reaching out to grab Bruce’s sleeve.

He missed.

Jason stumbled and fell, puzzled by the fact he’d been so sure he was close enough to catch Bruce as Jay stared at his hand, confusion etched on his tear-stained face.

He looked up, greeted by the sight of a hearse with a casket in the back, with a flower arrangement that spelled out a name that made Jason freeze on the spot.

“No...” he whimpered, the shock hitting him instantly as something flickered in his memory. “No… No....”

Jason flinched, feeling the phantom blow of a crowbar as the echo of sickening laughter rang out inside his head.

It felt like he couldn’t breathe, Jason’s memory flashing back in pieces, disjointed but vivid, faster and faster until his knees gave out from under him again, pitching Jason into darkness.

It was night again.

Jason didn’t ask what he had done anymore.

He knew.

[prismacolor19]

So I am just now listening to this song

and every single time I listen to this song I just think about the Batfamily especially Jason, Stephanie, and Damian saying this to Bruce. It’s so true that a lot of the time the Batfsmily especially Jay, Steph, and Dami, don’t care about what Bruce and the others say. This is also the Batfamily saying they don’t care about what the other Batfamily members say.

A lot of the time they will all just say yes to Bruce and each other and be like what your saying is a bunch of BS, especially when it comes to Bruce. When I listen to this song I think about Jay, Steph, and Dami mocking the other Batfamily members with their hands and mouth and the entire Batfamily mocking Bruce and doing the same thing.

The little thing I came up with happens sometime after Damian comes back from the tournament. I think the Batfamily would be overworking themselves after Alfred’s death especially Bruce so they all try to get each other to take a break, even by force if they need to.

It would be so awesome if we could see in the comcis the Batfamily saying “Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Batman” “We all know what your saying is a bunch of BS!” Then they all say “Cya!” and turn around and the girls do the hand flip with their hair and the boys just fiercely turn them they all just jump off the edge roof and Batman is left there standing alone staring at here they just where infront of the Batsignal hands fisted with with an angry face.

Then Jim Gordon comes out laughing a little and Batman then turns to face him

Batman: “It’s not funny”

Jim: “You deserved it” “Even Dick didn’t try to defend you and stop them and participated”

Batman:“I am sure Jason started this”

Jim: “I’m surprised they haven’t done this sooner”

Batman: smirks “Me too” Bruce thinks it’s funny they are all ganging up against Batman.

Jim: “Are they going to get reprimanded?”

Batman: still smirking then looks back at here they just where “No”

Jim: “You knew they were going to this didn’t you?” “You had this planned?”

Batman: “Yes” “I’m just happy to know they are all going to take a break and some time together”

Jim: “Your a workaholic”

Batman: “Says a workaholic”

Jim: “It’s quiet tonight” “You want to have coffee with me?”

Batman: Then turns back to face him with a smile “Sure”

What happened was Batman called the whole Batfsmily to tell them to take a break, while he was shit going to patrol by himself since it was a quiet night and he wanted them to take a break. The funny thing though is that Dick could already tell that day what Bruce had planned, because he knows Bruce so well and there are some things Bruce can’t hide from Dick.

So once Dick found out about this he told the others and they planned this with Jim so they could get Jim to get Bruce to take a break. So the Batfamily played Bruce and the funny thing is Bruce didn’t even notice until after Jim asked him if he wanted to have coffee with him! After he said that Bruce thought he should take up Jim’s offer because if not Dick and Jason were going to send sleeping gas through his office vent again and Bruce knew Jim knew he needed to take a break himself and Bruce thought it would be nice for both of them to take a break together and catch up and talk over coffee like they did in the old days.

[jinmukangwrites]

Dick and Dami Week 2021 Day 1

"Did you really mean that?"

-o-o-o-o-

After a bad run in with Two-Face, Damian asks Dick about things that were said.

-o-o-o-o-

The med-bay is silent, and all Dick can do is sit in an ancient plastic folding chair with his head in his hands. He hates this chair, it's uncomfortable and brings spikes up pain up through his tailbone into the entirety of his spine if he sits in it for too long... but for some reason it's a chair that no one in this makeshift patch-work of a family can throw away and replace quite yet. It's the chair you sit in when you're waiting for the person in the cot besides you to wake up. Dick's sure Alfred used to sit in this chair for Bruce before Robin was even a thought. Just like Bruce would sit in this chair for Dick, or Dick for Bruce, or Tim for Jason or Steph for Cass or Duke for Alfred or.…

Or Dick for Damian.

Damian's in the cot right now, an IV shoved into the crook of his arm and a bandage wrapped around the top of his skull. Little red speckles dot the white material; the bandages will have to be changed soon.

Damian's in the cot right now. Hurt. Beaten. Bruised.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29900148

And Dick's here in this uncomfortable as fuck chair, waiting for him to finally wake up.

This is his fault.

Well, maybe it isn't directly his fault, but he's... something less than a father to this kid, and he damn well considers him to be something like a son. It's been Dick's job and pleasure to watch over him. Being helpless and not strong enough… fast enough… to protect him is something he considers a failure.

He should have been stronger tonight. Faster. Better.

Instead he was held back, kicking his legs and begging, as Two-Face swung a bat against Damian's head.

Dick will never forget or forgive the smirk Dent gave him after Damian crumpled to the ground; his head already laying in a growing puddle of his own blood. Of course, that was the moment the mighty Batman had decided to descend into the abandoned courtroom with Orphan and Red Robin by his side. Dent didn't last too much longer, eventually ending up laying on the floor resembling something like a slab of meat under a butcher's hammer.

Dick's hands shook the entire way back to the manor. He wished he was able to make Dent hurt that badly with his own two fists, but well, getting Damian back to safety was the higher priority.

Maybe Jim will let Nightwing pay Two-Face a quick private visit before he gets sent back to Arkham.

A small, barely cut off whine brings Dick out of his tunneling thoughts. It's amazing how difficult and easy it is to bring a smile to his face as Damian lifts a fist to his face to rub one of his eyes.

All Dick has to do is sit and wait for Damian to fully come to awareness and realize that he's being watched.

"Richard?"

"That's me," Dick answers. He leans forward to help Damian sit up by placing a few pillows behind his back. Then he sits quietly as Damian composes himself, wanting nothing more than to bolt forward and wrap Damian in the tightest, most warmest hug to ever exist. However, Damian usually wants space after things like this, and if he wants a hug he'll find a way to hint at it.

If he even wants a hug from Dick, that is. This is Dick's fault after all.

After a few moments, Damian let's out his signature tt. "What happened to Dent?"

"Help came," Dick says. "Got us both out before major damage could be done. You'll have a headache for a while though, kiddo."

Damian frowns, which almost causes a laugh to bubble through Dick's throat. However, he keeps the fake/real smile on his face in silence as Damian looks down at his hands with a furrowed brow.

Eventually, Damian speaks again.

"As they were dragging me away... I heard you..." Dick's heart drops. "I heard you demand that you take my place. You yelled that you'll kill Dent if he hurt me. Did you really mean that?"

Dick feels his lips thin against his will. "I..." he starts, not really knowing how to explain in a way that works. He takes a deep breath and tells himself to just be honest with the kid. Damian responds well to honesty, even if the truth hurts more than lies. "Dami... I was scared... I thought that I was about to watch you be beaten and killed. If Bruce- if your dad didn't come when he did I don't know what would have happened. What I would have done. I... don't want to watch you die ever again. I would rather it be me."

Damian continues to look at his hands, picking at a scabbed scar on his ring finger. Dick doesn't know where he got that one but he does know he shouldn't pick at it. He doesn't say anything about it. He just waits for Damian to talk.

Damian takes a deep breath then looks Dick in the eyes. "I understand."

There it is. The hint Dick was oh-so-hoping for. Dick stands from the chair and settles down next to Damian in the cot, bringing his arm around Damian's shoulders and holding him close to his side.

"I was... scared too," Damian says after a moment of comfortable silence. Dick focuses on the breaths he can feel from the chest besides him. "But I'm happy it ended okay. I don't want to watch you die either."

Dick sighs and squeezes his kid a little closer. "Let's just both agree to be more careful from now on, then."

"Agreeing to be more careful won't stop bad things from happening," Damian mumbles through a yawn.

"No it won't," Dick replies softly, "but it will make us both feel better for now."

"Alright… I'll agree then."

Dick finally finds a genuine chuckle. He settles more into the cot and holds Damian as close as he dares. Which is very close.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, baby-wing," he whispers, unsure if Damian can even hear him as his breathing pattern has settled back into slumber. He says it anyway, closing his eyes. "And I definitely mean that with all my heart."

[dangerousconnoisseurdonut]

When a Demon Seduced an Angel

Context: this is a (rather large) snippet from my own prompt in which Bruce is an adorable and fierce Angel who, instead of having fluffy, white, birdlike wings like all the other angels, has black, leathery bat-like wings and is tormented for it. To show the other Angels that he is good and not a demon in disguise, Bruce has taken on several high risk missions on his own, and successfully stopped numerous demon campaigns. Unfortunately, this causes the demons and their generals, The Legion of Horribles and the Brigadier Generals, Jim and Alfred (who all, strangely enough, have birdlike wings unlike their demon underlings) no small degree of vexation. So they catch him and present him to their generals... and they are stunned! This cute, little baby bat is the one causing so much trouble? Jim is the one who suggests they take the pup’s loyalty and twist it to them. The others agree, and this is Alfred’s ‘session’ with the cute little Angel.

Alfred made sure he had everything set up before allowing the pup to be brought in; the candles were lit, the wine was comfortably chilled, and his secret weapon would be in full view of the pup when it was time. He knew exactly how to make that pup sing like a nightingale, Jim and Victor thought they had broken through with all their Daddy Play the other day but he was going to have the pup leave his body by the time he was done. He looked up when some demon grunts brought the boy in, more than one sporting bruises and scratches. He wondered about the ‘All-Father’s’ sense of humour in creating such an intoxicating creature and putting him on the side of the angels. The white clothes he had been captured in had done nothing for his skin, but the dark clothes he now sported showed off his creamy skin, his dark hair, and beautiful dark green eyes. The boy was sin personified but he was on the side of the Bible humpers; he wondered if the boy was supposed to be the ‘great reward’ for being good, wholesome, and all around boring. He certainly appeared to be a tall glass of holy water.

He watched as the underlings maneuvered Bruce until he was in the center of the room, removed his shirt, and attached to a hook hanging overhead. Alfred smirked as he watched the pup try and get his balance; he had arranged the hook so that Bruce would only be able to stand on his tiptoes and any kind of struggling would have the boy flailing in the air. And Alfred could foresee a fair bit of struggling. As a gift however, he nodded that those beautiful, butter soft leather wings be released of their harness. He heard Bruce sigh a little in relief at the release of pressure and smiled as he came into view of their baby bat.

“Comfortable?” He relished in the glare he received in return as the pup responded,

“If I was in anyway comfortable, I would be home right now instead of being surrounded by demons.”

“Such attitude when we’ve done our best to make sure you were comfortable.”

“Oh yeah; those chains you used to pin me down and keep my wings bound the other day were really comfortable.” Alfred merely shrugged and replied,

“You tried to leave without saying goodbye pup; that’s bad manners and Victor and Jim had to get tough with you. Though, judging by your reactions, you didn’t mind being their ‘Daddies Boy’.” Alfred smirked as Bruce blushed and looked away before continuing,

“Tell me, Brucie, what do you know of the senses?” Bruce glared at the ‘Brucie’ bit before responding,

“They are a faculty by which the body perceives an external stimulus; one of the faculties of sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch.” Alfred rolled his eyes before yawning and responding,

“Figures an angel would give such a dry description of something so essential. I think you need a little lesson on the senses.” So saying, Alfred produced a red silk blindfold and wrapped it around Bruce’s eyes.

“First, we are going to start off with two of the most disregarded senses; taste and smell. You ever eaten pup?”

“Of course not; angels have no need to eat so why waste the time?” Bruce responded as he tried to keep track of the demon.

“Demons don’t have to eat either Baby Boy; we do it because we enjoy it, something I doubt you’ve ever actually done. So, let’s see if I can’t help you understand our enjoyment of the act. We have a chef down here that is so good; it’s said that when her husband sold his soul for some idiotic reason, she offered her own soul that she could make a dish that would bring tears to Mephisto’s eyes. Poor dear didn’t realize that Mephisto didn’t have tear ducts but the meal was so good, when he took her soul, he placed it in the kitchens, allowing her to try all manners of dishes. Last I checked, she’s never been happier, and she hopes you’ll like what she made up for you. She made you a lovely herb encrusted lamb with some lovely roasted Brussels sprouts, some creamy herb mash potatoes, and a lovely purple cabbage salad with cranberries and mandarin oranges to cut through all the richness of everything. To start you off we have a lovely, refreshing chilled watercress yogurt soup that will do a lovely job of waking your taste buds up and for dessert, she made a delicious blueberry and lemon tart that will top things off beautifully. On the off chance you don’t like the tart, I also have some lovely strawberries and cream, which is a favourite of mine.”

“I really don’t see the point in any of that; angels and demons feed on cosmic energy, we have no need for such things.” Bruce retorted at the food listed. He honestly had no concept of any which had been described to him, and didn’t see the point in consuming human food that would not give them any extra energy.

“That’s the whole point; decadence, doing things not because you have to or because it serves some kind of function. Doing them simply because it feels good, which you are about to get a lesson in, so open up.” Bruce didn’t want to but knew the sooner he indulged this demon and showed him how pointless such a thing was, the demon may get irritated enough and send him away. He opened his mouth and let the demon place the spoon with the cold soup on his tongue before it was tipped down his throat. He had to admit, there was an interesting flavour to it and it was rather refreshing

“You like that?” Bruce was fairly certain he could hear the smirk on the demon’s face so responded,

“I never said humans don’t know how to prepare food to their liking, I just don’t see the point on wast- hmph!” Bruce suddenly found the spoon back in his mouth with more soup as the demon responded,

“I can see that I have my work cut out for me in teaching you about indulging; fortunately for you, I have the patience of Job, so we can keep at this for however long it takes.” Alfred took a mouthful himself before giving Bruce another. It wasn’t long before the soup was done, and he wondered how the stubborn angel would deal with the lovely rack of lamb. He cut off a nice sized piece of the medium rare lamb and held it first under the angel’s nose so he could get a good whiff of it.

“That, my pretty little bat, is a perfectly cooked medium rare lamb. For humans, the scent alone can be enough to get their mouths watering and scent is a powerful memory trigger so, the next time you are around humans, you will remember this scent and remember that a demon was the one who woke these senses up in you.” When Bruce opened his mouth to retort, the piece of meat was tucked into him mouth and the forced closed as Alfred instructed,

“Now, we don’t choke but it can be uncomfortable to swallow a piece of meat like that whole, so take your time in chewing it, but just let it sit on your tongue for a minute, let the flavour of the meat, the herbs, the tender sauce all mix together on your virgin tongue, and try to tell me that it’s not worth savouring and eagerly awaiting the next bite.” Bruce did as instructed and let the meat sit on his tongue, and couldn’t hold back the moan as the flavours seeped into his tongue and it felt like there were fireworks going off behind his eyelids.

“Told you so, didn’t I?” Bruce slowly chewed the piece of meat, indeed savouring it before swallowing it and taking a moment to collect himself before responding,

“Yes, it’s good, but angels aren’t meant to indulge in such things; it’s wrong!” Alfred swallowed his own piece before replying,

“If it’s so wrong, Brucie, then why did the ‘All-Father’ give you taste buds? Is it wrong on the same level as those who condemn homosexuals? I know more than a few angels who would like to see them down here.”

“No! No, the All-Father loves us all! He wants us to love each other, not hate!”

“Then those angels are wrong in their condemnation?”

“Yes!”

“Then why are they right about their opinions on food right? Or their opinion of you for that matter?” Bruce shrunk in on himself so Alfred sighed and gave him another piece of meat, this one with some of the mash potatoes, creating a lovely combination of flavours. After a couple more bites, he gave him some of the salad, and he seemed to enjoy the refreshing acidity. Soon, Alfred poured the conflicted angel a refreshing glass of wine and pressed the rim to his lips.

“This is a delightful little wine that pairs beautifully with lamb that offers the restraint to complement the delicate, gamey flavor of lamb and the deliciously jammy sweetness to go with the fig-port sauce. And so help me if you give me some speech about how angels aren’t supposed to drink spirits, I am going to get a Succubus in here that will tease you for hours, and even you can’t handle that.” Bruce whimpered as he parted his lips and allowed himself to take a few sips, finding it bracing and actually quite nice.

“Now, you ready for your dessert?”

"I would... like... to try... them both, since I’ve never actually had fruit, though I’ve noticed humans enjoy it.” Alfred smiled as the pup asked for something he wanted, even displayed a little greed and gluttony as the pup wanted to try both, and cut a small piece of tart before presenting it to him. He parted his lips and took the tart with the firm crust and enjoyed the sweetness of the blueberries and the zing from the lemon. Alfred then took a piece of strawberry and scooped up a bit of cream before presenting it to the abandoned angel. He watched as Bruce seemed to enjoy the strawberries just a tad more, so he grabbed another piece and, when he opened his lips, he used the strawberry to trace the pup’s lips. As confusion fluttered over the pup’s face, Alfred very casually asked,

“Did you know that some people consider certain foods to be aphrodisiacs? They are seen as being able to arouse a person. Strawberries are one of those foods; I suppose it has something to do with the juiciness and some say that a ripe strawberry, after you’ve bitten into it, looks a lot like a woman’s pussy.” Despite the fact it should not have been possible, Bruce found himself choking on the strawberry he had just gotten.

“You alright love? You want some more wine?” Bruce didn’t know how a demon could sound so innocent, but this one pulled it off quite well.

“Humans enjoyed using food for sex long before we even dreamed of it. I happen to know that it was some decadent woman in Greece who one day, tired of her husband ignoring her, actually started inserting grapes into her pussy. She and a slave boy had a lot of fun trying different foods, right up until her husband killed them both. It was a little closer to modern times when they started using things like whipped cream and chocolate spread, something I’ll have to be sure to bring next time as there’s more than one part of your body that would look good covered in chocolate and cream. Now, if you’re done eating, I think we are ready to help you learn about your next two senses; hearing... and touch.”

To Be Continued...

[cl-01-kestis]

Shut Me Up - Jerome Valeska x Female Reader | Part 3

Summary: You continue recieving more calls from Jerome and getting used to staying with Bruce Wayne.

Warnings: Descriptions of death

You stood beside Alfred, leaning against the limousine-like car whilst waiting for Bruce to come out of school. You had a black overcoat on that reached to your mid knee, you kept it open so the dress was on show. Students walked past the car and didn’t take a second glance at you and the butler, going by their business and scurrying home just that little bit faster considering the recent news of Arkham Asylum.

Your arms were folded over your chest and you felt slightly more easier when Bruce Wayne walked out of the school entrance, looking around and smiling when his eyes landed on the car.

You kept a sharp eye out for anything funny looking, still on the edge about everything happening within the day so far and trying not to show the fact you were fearing for your life, very much. Alfred gave you a handgun before leaving the manor, you hid it underneath the overcoat you were wearing and kept your hands firmly in your pockets to avoid suspicion.

Bruce approached the car, his gaze was on you and there appeared to be a smile on his face. He greeted Alfred and looked happy rather than suspicious to have someone else there.

“You’re (Y/N), aren’t you?” The younger boy asked with certainty, pointing his finger subtly at you without seeming rude. You nodded your head and got up from leaning against the car.

“Indeed I am, I’m your guest for the next lord knows how many months” You joked, earning a brief chuckle from Bruce who nodded his head and looked up to Alfred. The three of you got in the car quickly, not wasting a moment further being around Gotham High and racing straight for the manor. You sat in the passenger seat whereas Bruce sat behind you and Alfred in the back of the car. He was looking out of the window, it looked as though he was in his own dream world. You and Alfred had a nice chat about dinner, you convinced him that you’d help him and insisted you were a good chef. He seemed pretty hesitant though, it was clear it had been a long time since he’d received help from someone that wasn’t his Master.

You got out of the car and checked your surroundings even though there was a tall gate around the perimeter of Wayne Manor. Alfred and Bruce spoke for a brief moment when all of a sudden your phone buzzed in your pocket, your ringtone bursting to life and nearly scaring you to death. You quickly pulled your phone from the coat pocket and looked up to Alfred once you saw the No Collar ID appear on your screen.

“I’ll catch up with you two in a minute, dads calling” You lied, earning a nod from Alfred who went on to escort Bruce into his home. You noticed Bruce look over his shoulder as you answered the phone, a concerned expression written over his face before the door closed and you were left outside.

“Hello?” You answered, your heels clicking against the concrete slabs as you slowly made your way up the stairs to the entrance door. You sat down on one of the many steps and folded the coat across your body due to the brisk wind.

“Hiya doll, you thought about my offer yet?” Jerome’s voice cackled through the phone, a deep sensation of nauseating pain embedding itself in your stomach as his voice rung in your ears.

“Tried, forgot about it” You tried sounding unbothered but you were so on edge, your voice came out in a soft whisper instead of a sarcastic tone.

“Not good enough doll, you know, you should check the news, you’re missing all the fun!” His voice was deep and full of amusement, it was clear he was trying to toy with you.

“What did you do?” You asked quickly, standing up from the steps and sneaking inside the manor without Alfred hearing. You looked around the hallway and listened into what your red headed psycho had to say before leaning around the arch to the living room where Bruce was watching the TV, his back faced to you as the door was open, giving you a great view of what he was watching.

There was so much going on. 5 bodies dressed in inmate clothes stood on the top of one of Gothams many buildings, throwing bodies off the roof that eventually splat all on the ground, remains of crushed brains and spatters of blood on the ground and some getting on the camera lense. The camera switched to another which was zooming up on the inmates, one which you couldn’t miss.

Jerome laughed as he held the phone up to his face, his laugh echoing in your ear as he watched another body fall to the ground.

“You see doll, if you come to me all of this will stop, or, at least I will, I’m not sure about them,” he pointed with his thumb to the other inmates next to him. “You’re all I want sunshine! Call it an obsession if you will, I’ll find you if I have to!” His voice started mutating into that sickening laugh that made your stomach turn, you dropped your phone and coughed as the last body fell to the ground. You held a hand underneath your mouth as you raced to the downstairs bathroom in the manor and slammed the door open, spewing your stomach up as the images of those innocent men falling flashed in your mind. Would that have happened if you turned yourself in quicker?

Bruce was the first to get to you as he raced to the bathroom to see what was going on, confusion written all over his face but quickly coming to the realisation that you were there.

He acted quick and pulled your hair out of your face to avoid getting anything caught in it, holding it behind you with his hand as the other patted your back. You were surprised a boy this young knew what to do in situations like this, it’s common sense but it still mildly shocked you.

Your thoughts were muted as you held tightly onto the toilet, continuing to cough up the nasty fluids that swirled uncomfortably in your stomach. After everything finally stopped, you leaned back and spat out the remaining taste in your mouth. Bruce watered a cloth and gave it to you to clean your mouth, still holding back your hair as you cleared your throat and apologised.

“I’m sorry about that, I just- the news shocked me” You sighed, holding onto the cloth after finishing cleaning your face and looking up to Bruce who nodded in understanding.

“I understand, it’s horrible what those inmates done” Bruce glared at nothing in particular, his eyes holding such disgust and anger. You carefully wobbled to your feet, Bruce’s arm positioned itself behind your waist, helping you walk out the bathroom after flushing the toilet and calling Albert for some help. The butler was rapid in taking over and telling Bruce to go back to what he was doing. Albert helped you upstairs and made sure you werent going to be sick, trying to reason with you that there was a chance it might happen again even though you stubbornly insisted it was just from the shock. Even so, Albert still left a basin at the side of your bed after he told you to get some rest and left you alone in your room.

You got out of the dress which gladly didn’t have any sick on it, placing it back on the hanger considering there wasn’t a wash basket anywhere and you weren’t allowed out of your room. You took your heels off and got into bed despite having no pyjamas, only in the comfort of your underwear. Albert drew the curtains before he left so it saved you from moving around any more than you needed to. You realised he had brought your phone up and left it on the side of your bed, you weren’t sure when the call with Jerome but you were glad it was over. You could finally get some rest and rejuvenate for the night ahead.

-

You woke up to the sound of the wind whistling, you weren’t sure what time it was but outside was dark so you assumed it was late at night. It took you 10 minutes to fully wake up and get out of bed. You grabbed a dressing gown on the back of the door and opened it to walk out into the upstairs hallway. Yawning, your bare feet walked down the steps of the manor and you only got midway until a familiar face appeared.

“Dad?” Your voice was sleepy but still full of surprise, your Dad stood at the entrance to the manor with his hands in his coat pockets. His face lit up immediately when he spotted you and walked over to embrace you once you’d made your way fully down the stairs.

Your Dad held you tight, the most tight he had in a long time as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Thank god you’re alright” His voice sounded gruff, tired, as though he’d been working all day and night. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder and closed your eyes, wishing you could be safe in his arms like this forever but you had to unfortunately pull away. Your eyes glistened with tears but you didn’t cry, you were just happy to see that your dad was okay and well.

“Is Leslie okay?” You asked, holding onto your Dads shoulders as if you were trying to keep balance. Jim nodded, silently assuring you whilst trying to remain calm and not freak out at the fact a maniac was after his daughter.

“She’s fine, back at the GCPD, the good thing is that you’re safe” Your Dad cupped the back of your head and pressed a firm kiss against your forehead, bringing you in for another close hug that made you feel comfort like no other. You squeezed your father just for that extra reassurance, just to remind yourself that he was still well and in your arms. Jim was doing the same, he was over the moon you were okay but he still felt like you were in a lot of danger.

“What’s going on with Jerome?” You asked, pulling away and holding your dressing gown close to your body as an unpleasant shiver erupted over your body. Jim frowned, pausing for a moment before resting his hands on hips and letting out a sigh.

“Unfortunately we don’t know his whereabouts, there’s been no lead on where he could be, any more calls from him?” Your dad asked with a stern tone, eyes still as he stared at your face.

You gulped, going unnoticed by Jim as you shook your head.

“Nothing at all” You lied.

Jim nodded slowly, as if he was taking his time as to believe you or not. Thankfully, just in time, Jim’s phone started ringing in his pocket, buzzing violently as he quickly pulled it out of his blazer pocket and excused himself, taking the call which seemed to be important.

You let out a sigh of relief, looking away from Jim and to Alfred who held a suspicious look on his face as his eyes looked at your face, as if he knew you were lying. Bruce smiled as you turned to face him.

“Want anything to drink?” He offered kindly, you nodded and thanked the young boy bluntly before following him to the kitchen where he kindly poured you a glass of cold water.

“What was your Dad talking about back there?” Bruce asked with a strong tone of curiosity, sitting down at the table in the kitchen which was lit with only a few candles. You sat opposite him and let out a short, sharp sigh.

“It’s complicated” You said before sipping at your glass of water, avoiding Bruce’s eyes whilst looking around the kitchen, inspecting the interior.

“I’m sure I can understand” He reasoned with a smile.

You stared warily at Bruce for a few silent seconds, raising a brow at his nosiness but biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything snarky.

“This guy, Jerome, I met him at the circus where we found his mother’s body. He tricked me into thinking he was innocent. Long story short, he got ahold of my phone number and now he’s calling me” You put it in the most simple way possible, avoiding detail as much as you could and begging that Bruce wouldn’t bring anything else up or ask about anything.

“Sounds fun” Bruce joked, making you smile for the first time in what seemed like ages and you felt a little bit better at the situation.

“I wish i could say that myself” You sighed, taking another long sip of your glass of water and scratching the back of your scalp to pass the time. Bruce looked at you, as if he was trying to study you but he couldn’t quite get a grip of what you were feeling.

“I’m guessing Jerome’s been calling you by the way you answered Jim’s question” Bruce asked rhetorically, making you roll your eyes slightly before nodding your head and making sure your dad wasn’t around.

“It’s not like I don’t trust Dad, I just don’t want him worrying anymore than he needs to” You put the glass down on the counter before leaning on both of your elbows, hands rubbing your face before eventually clasping in front of you mouth.

“You’re his daughter, I’m sure he’d want to know if anything was wrong” Bruce tried reasoning with you but you waved him off and frowned.

“If it was anyone else but Jerome then it would be easier” You said.

“What do you mean by that” The boy asked, leaning on his elbows as well so the two of you were level and face to face. You sighed once again, biting the tip of your tongue and wishing you didn’t have to open up so much, especially to a 13 year old.

“Because... feelings I guess, they make everything difficult” Your voice faltered for a moment to reply Alf it left Bruce with burning, fiery curiosity.

“I see, are your feelings for each other mutual?” Bruce asked, figuring out exactly what you were getting at in a blink second and earning a surprised, impressed expression from you, only to be quickly replaced once again with the emotionless one.

“Honestly, no clue. I felt attraction towards him at the circus but now... maybe I still do, I don’t know” Was your final reply before hearing footsteps approach the kitchen, revealing Alfred who came out of his hiding space and walked in to greet you and Bruce.

“Pardon for the intrusion but your Dad’s leaving, probably should say goodbye to him” The British butler said with a smile before watching you get out of your seat and thank him graciously, walking rapidly to the main hallway of the manor once again and seeing your Dad. Jim had his hands in his pockets and a soft, manageable smile on his face. You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his torso, your head resting on his chest as he embraced you tightly, pressing a firm kiss on the top of your head as he stroked your back and sighed.

“If I could I’d stay, but Jerome’s out there and if I don’t do anything you might be in danger” Your dad stared in a determined tone, pulling away from the hug and patting your shoulder reassuringly. You didn’t want the hug to end because you felt safe for the first time in what felt like days, you didn’t want him to go because you felt like Jerome might find out where you are and find a way to sneak in and kidnap you, or worse, murder you.

“Stay safe, okay?” It wasn’t a question and Jim knew that as you said it, nodding his head firmly and managing a small smile before walking away and approaching the door.

“I love you Dad” You called out just as he opened the door.

“I love you too, Angel” Jim looked happy, relieved to hear such a thing before bidding farewell to Alfred and Bruce and eventually closing the door, leaving you alone once more.

-

You stared at the no caller ID name tag in your contacts whilst chewing nervously on your lip, your legs hurled up to your chest as you hovered your finger above the name tag, contemplating whether or not you should press on it.

Jerome had been plagueing your mind ever since the last phone call, his offer to you was starting to sink in and you started to realise how much this would benefit other people from getting hurt, including Leslie and Jim. But you weren’t going to give yourself away, it wasn’t going to be that easy. Jerome was a crazy, ballistic psychopath who could kill you in the blink of an eye but for some reason you weren’t scared. You were intrigued, intrigued by a coold blooded murderer, and you didn’t even blink an eye at that.

You had been stuffed up in your guest room at the Wayne Manor and refused to leave, you were itching to call Jerome but you kept stopping yourself from doing so. So much was going on in your mind, your feelings were peeking and you felt like you were going to vomit.

You confronted yourself at the fact you definitely had feelings for Jerome, love of some sort? Maybe, but definitely attraction. And you hated yourself for it, you felt like you were betraying your dad and everyone in your life by falling in love with someone who killed for sport. You could have fallen in love with a boy at school, had a friend set you up on a date with a normal boy, but no. You had to fall for the psycho. Ironic wasn’t even the word.

Sucking in a breath, you finally pressed the tip of your finger on the no caller ID and waited anxiously in the dark, candle lit room. It rung for over ten seconds and eventually he finally picked up, causing your nerves to sky rocket.

“Jerome?” You mumbled, voice barely audible as you started chewing on your nails, waiting for his reply.

“Well this is certainly a surprise; a welcome one of course” Jerome’s voice caught you off guard as he spoke loud and clear through the speaker of your phone. You quickly turned down the volume to prevent anyone outside of your room from hearing, your heart practically in your throat. This was wrong.

“I’ve been thinking about your offer” You said, voice trembling slightly with each word that left your mouth.

“Good, that’s more like it doll! So tell me, have you made up your mind yet? Or am I going to have to wait longer?” Jerome’s voice slid down into a teeth grinding tone which you didn’t react well to, body shaking feverishly as you inhaled through your nose to calm your breathing down.

“I can’t give you a solid answer just yet, this whole situations so sudden... I just- I’m overwhelmed” You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you lay down beside your phone and listened in closely as you heard Jerome take a sharp inhale before humming to himself in disapproval.

“You take too long doll, I know you want to be with me” Jerome teased in a coy, mischievous tone. You clenched your jaw at his response and didn’t reply right away which you immediately regretted as Jerome started laughing to himself.

“It’s unhealthy to avoid your feelings you know, don’t deny it gorgeous” He continued. You gripped the covers of your bed and clenched then tightly, trying to distract yourself from the amount of shivers running across your body.

“You know what- yes, I do, but my issue is you’re a murderer and being with you would put me in serious trouble-“

“So you admit it?” Jerome cut you off with a boyish giggle.

“Yes! there, are you happy now?” You asked in a pathetic tone of voice, trying to sound tough when really you were trying not to burst into tears.

“I am actually, how does it feel knowing daddy’s out there on the hunt for me and you’re in bed, phoning me to express your feelings towards me? Tut tut, bad girl” Jerome smirked, his voice lowered as he spoke the last few words. You didn’t know how to respond, he was right. You hated admitting that. Your Dad was spending so much valuable time trying to find Jerome whilst you were creating a romance with him, it was a dangerous game you were playing.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jerome” You hissed, hiding you and your phone under your covers as you continued to stare at the low light screen with No Caller ID written in basic white letters.

“Flatter myself? I hardly consider flattering myself as hearing the girl I’ve been thinking about for weeks telling me she has feelings for me” Jerome’s playful tone faded away once again into a more serious one, you couldn’t keep up with his mood changes and it made you confused as to what he was really feeling.

You tried to think of a reply, your mind scattering with different approaches of all types of tones and attitudes. You didn’t have the energy to be angry or snappy at him, not after he learned how you really felt towards him. You had nothing to defend yourself with anymore; the evidence was on the table.

“I want to see you” You said, you started to immediately contemplate whether or not you should’ve said that in case you sparked something inside of Jerome.

“Really now? Say the word and I’ll be there gorgeous” He replied smoothly, his tone tormenting but the amusement was cloaked with interest. You had his attention fully now.

“North wing of the docks, midnight tomorrow, and come alone” You chewed your cheek anxiously as you waited for his reply, lifting your knees up to your chest and holding them close as you ran your fingers through your hair.

“I’ll be there, I promise” Jerome’s tone lightened at the end as though he were talking to a baby, it irked you but you held your tongue from saying anything that gave him an advantage to torment you any further.

“Good... I can’t believe I’m doing this” You said to mostly yourself as you pinched the bridge of your nose, letting out a frustrated sigh which earned you a coy giggle from the handsome psychotic red head.

“You’re doing it because you want to, gorgeous, you can’t resist me” Jerome smirked, his voice getting under your skin, you shuddered as a result and you found yourself unable to stop the thoughts of something happening tomorrow night that you might regret. What if this was your last day alive? You could never know, maybe Jerome wasn’t blood thirsty for you, perhaps is was just an obsession you could hopefully control.

“By the sounds of it you can’t resist me either” You replied, causing Jerome to make a small playful gasp.

“Flirting back are we? I like where this is going” Jerome’s voice kept changing, you were unable to keep up with it but the tone he had on now made you bite your lip. He sounded so seductive, it tempted you and you couldn’t help but let yourself accept the fact that you truly wanted Jerome. He was everywhere you went, he was your every thought at this point, what was the point in denying how you felt?

“I’m afraid we’ll have to continue this conversation later, don’t miss me too much” You allowed yourself to giggle, hanging up before Jerome had to say anything else and collapsing onto your bed, your eyes staring up at the ceiling that felt like it was caving in on you. What the hell did you just get yourself into?

[samiralula01]

Jason Todd is the Anti-Batman

* A pointless rambling of the relationship and parallels between Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd.

Picture this opening scene: There are two boys in a dark alley.

One is dressed in an expensive suit with a tie his dead father helped him with only earlier that evening. His hands are stained red with the same blood now puddled on the grimy cement. His face is in shock.

The second boy is dressed in tattered jeans and hoodie. His hands are stained with tires grease and are clutching a tire iron. His face is in shock.

Decades later, there are two more scenes to consider.

A seriously injured man sits slumped over in his father’s study. Without warning, a bat crashes through the window, and everything falls into place. He now knows what he needs to do.

Elsewhere, an emotionally distraught teenager is curled up into a fetal position on a hotel room floor. Heart wrenching cries can be heard from him. But it is only momentary. He now knows what he needs to do.

These two individuals are Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd. While they are both broken and determined men, Batman is a hero. The Red Hood is not. He is the anti-Batman and this is why.

Two Boys in an Alleyway

Despite similarities in their stories’ early themes and elements, Bruce and Jason came to walk down very different paths. One of justice, and the other vengeance. Batman is determined to protect the innocent and Jason more so on punishing the guilty. Both their ideologies have intrinsic flaws, of course, and will naturally clash often. But this wasn’t always the case.

Before they became a father and son perpetually in mourning for who they once were and what could have been, Bruce and Jason were remarkably similar. The two are cut from the same cloth and Bruce knows this better than anyone else.

In the Dumpster Slasher three-part story line, (Batman #414, #421, #422) Bruce becomes emotional. Violent. He sits in the batcave alone that night and contemplates his emotions.

“Nearly blew it. I let it get too personal. Lost my detachment...nearly lost control. Almost beat Cutter to death. Wouldn’t have been any big loss.”

Only one issue later, at the end of this story arc, Robin is out on the streets and becomes angry when he happens upon a pimp is threatening a prostitute with a knife. Now, I want you to compare his line here to Bruce’s and note what Jim Gordon said to him as well.

Batman: "I think he’s had enough, Robin. What were you trying to do, kill him?" Robin (Jason): “Would it’ve been that big of a loss if I had?”

It is important to note here that Batman is not worried or upset just because Jason roughs up a pimp. That would be hypocritical considering his own earlier actions. If anything, it’s because one of the main reasons Batman even takes in these kids, these ‘robins,’ is because he doesn’t want them to be like him.

And Jason was acting just like him.

Jason can and has screwed up and failed due to his own actions, but it was never the reason Batman became upset with him. His reactions in the comics when Jason does things like running ahead and ‘jumping the gun,’ are more like this:

He either makes a teaching moment out of it or is attempts to understand Jason’s reasons in doing any such thing. When Bruce does become harsh in his discipline, it’s either when he feels as though Jason has endangered his own life or as I said, he acts too much like him.

While there are quite a few more similarities between Bruce and Jason that makes them alike, such as both being introverted and interested in obtaining all sorts of knowledge that they might not even feel is relevant, they are both, at the core of their characters, deeply caring and compassionate people.

The differences only start to show with how they act on it.

The Not-So Dynamic Duo?

“What happened to you as a child, the terror, the pain, the horrors (...) you were broken, and I thought I could put the pieces back together. I thought I could do for you what could never be done for me. Make you whole.”

Hot take. Jason Todd is a villain and is best written as a villain. 

Not in that campy way like he’s written during Dick and Damian’s Batman and Robin run while wearing that stupid pill-headed hood, (although, I grant he has a few lines that are enjoyable to read) but in all his serious, vengeful and downright brutal motives. 

The Red Hood is the perfect Batman villain because he’s so different from what the widely perceived perfect foil to the controlled and disciplined Bat is...the Joker. 

The Red Hood was vengeance at its purest. It is justice without being tempered by mercy. It is the rage of victims who were forgotten to become statistics. While other vigilantes wait for a cure, hope for rehabilitation, and pretend their system works, the Red Hood is a man of no such faith.

And this makes him a villain. And a damn good one.

During the Red Hood’s time as a crime lord in Gotham, he goes around blowing up buildings. He throws grenades into trucks. He mows down his competition with gunfire. Batman comes upon the bloodied hanged corpse of a man he was finished interrogating. 

But what is so compelling about this all is that before all the murder, all the guns and explosions, Jason Todd was a very different little boy. And all the great and memorable villains start that way.

The Joker is not someone you’re meant to sympathize with or even understand. In fact, I find him more terrifying because he’s unknown. He has no backstory (unless you want to believe the one he gave in Killing Joke, but the clown has a new story for every face he meets) and seemingly does what he does for a laugh of all things.

Jason Todd is in pain. He’s traumatized. Betrayed. Buried. Replaced. He is no one’s son because his father abandoned him.

Once upon a time, Jason Todd was a boy who saved himself. One of the biggest lies that Batman himself perpetuates is that he saved Jason from a life of crime. He tells Alfred that Jason was always dangerous. Bruce simply took him off the streets before he could be any worse.

But I don’t believe that’s true.

Jason grew up surrounded by crime, poverty, substance abuse and yet this amazing kid saved himself everyday by making a conscious choice to be kind and care about school, care about keeping his mother alive for over a year when he was just a child himself. That amazing kid was magic. 

Jason Todd as Robin was magic.

“Jason smiles. A bright smile. The kind Robin, the Boy Wonder should have.”

A good portion of his character’s assassination was in order to push the Tim is the perfect Robin idea. It was editorial decisions. The same ‘suits’ who insisted that Tim Drake be the Robin in the New Adventures cartoon despite having Jason’s backstory and personality. But I digress on that. 

Jason Todd was an introverted, studious, and emphatic person. He wanted to make friends with other kids his age even though he was a loner at heart. He joined the school baseball team and was a class officer, even if his training kept him from most social interactions.

He was also very much in tune with non-verbal cues and small changes in the environment around him. He was a thoughtful person who could be found admiring the stars or passing by scenery. When he teams up with the New Teen Titans, we get to see these aspects of his personality:

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful before. We’re actually riding above the clouds.”

“Every so often, I notice you become awfully agitated...like something was going on you didn’t want to be part of. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

It didn’t take Bruce long to fall in love with this boy and ask to legally adopt him. He found him to be smart, thoughtful, quick at learning and funny as hell. Their first meeting opens with Batman laughing in the very same alley his heart was ripped out decades earlier. 

Even in the Rebirth canon, (RHATO #48) we see that Bruce is already set on taking in Jason while he’s still with Ma Gunn’s school. He likes this kid. A lot.

“Butler, actually. You’ll meet him someday, I’m sure.”

Jason Todd was happy. Most of the time. Unfortunately, he still wrestled with depression and would sleep all day on occasion and could be found crying hidden away on his own, withdrawn from the concerned Bruce and Alfred.

In A Death in the Family, Alfred and Bruce sit down and discuss Jason’s worsening mental health, particularly after the Diplomat’s Son where Jason becomes witness to sexual assault, suicide and the failings of both Batman and the GCPD to protect innocent people. Barbara, his tutor, someone he cared about and got along with, is also shot a few months earlier.

Bruce thinks Jason has become suicidal. Alfred does not disagree with this theory and supplements it with things he’s observed himself about the ‘lad.’

“I’ve come upon him, several times, looking at that battered old photograph of his mother and father, crying. When he’s seen me, he’s hidden the picture and left the room, refusing to talk.”

It is then that Jason discovers the truth about his mother at the worst possible time, when he’s not even thinking straight, and thus leads way to the tragedy that will be his murder at the hand’s of the Joker.

The Curse of Jason Todd

“Do you have any idea what you have done?! Do you? You have no inkling of what you’ve created -- what you have unleashed! You have set free a curse upon this world!”

Red Hood: Lost Days, which depicts Jason’s dark post-resurrection origin, opens with Ra’s al Ghul bellowing this line, the steam from the Lazarus Pit still rising off of him. 

I’m not going to analyze this line, I’m just using it to supplement a point of mine I hope I’m getting through well enough. The Red Hood is a compelling, tragic villain. He is similar to Batman in ways that Bruce always knew and may have even feared because of how intimately he knows his own deepest, darkest thoughts. Jason is the perfect foil as an antagonist for him because of what he represents to Bruce.

And it’s not his anger, or his rage, or even his brutality. 

It’s his compassion. His caring. His emotions. And how they can open up the worst parts of themselves. 

Both are motivated by preventing whatever trauma happened to them from ever happening to anyone else. They both trained for years with this motivation. And they’ve both acted out on the very person who inflicted their trauma onto them.

Here’s where their paths start to differ, however, and what separates them with a line of morality.

They both get angry. They both care so damn much. About Gotham, about innocents, about each other. They both get too emotionally invested and deal with consequences related to that. To manage with that, Bruce shuts down. He creates all these choices, rules and symbols. He uses every ounce of his self control to keep them. 

Bruce Wayne is not a good person. He forces himself to be with discipline and will. He chooses to be a good man and constantly pushes himself to live up to that. Because it’d be too damn easy to be just like the Red Hood.

Jason doesn’t understand that. Because no matter what Bruce had done or will do, he doesn’t hate him. He can’t. Despite his denial of the fact to different people, he still thinks of Bruce as his father. This great figure that so many others revere and are even intimidated by.

He’s not the only bat-kid to think of Bruce in this light despite the fact that the man is not. It took Dick years to overcome that perception. Tim only just started to begin understanding this true nature after his own father was murdered. 

But even if he did understand his (once)father, he still became the complete opposite of him despite so many early parallels. He doesn’t hold back his words and emotions, he doesn’t go into a state of controlled dissociation or emotional disengagement.

Jason Todd—the Red Hood—is Batman without all his rules and control. In a way, he’s what the darkest part of Batman himself wants to be. Jason does what Batman can’t do when it’s needed.

Because in Batman’s book, life beats out justice. Even if he could take down abusers and murderers, he won’t. He will choose saving and protecting lives over the apprehension of killers...he always does.

Batman is justice. Red Hood is vengeance.

Jason is a victim’s fantasy. He punishes and kills the guilty. Something Batman won’t do.

He is the anti-Batman for better or for worse.