#Sunny Wayne

[movienized-com]

Perilloor Premier League

Perilloor Premier League (Serie 2024) #NikhilaVimal #AjuVarghese #SunnyWayne #SarathSabha #Vijayaraghavan #SajinCherukayil Mehr auf:

Serie Jahr: 2024- (Januar) Genre: Comedy / Drama Hauptrollen: Nikhila Vimal, Aju Varghese, Sunny Wayne, Sarath Sabha, Vijayaraghavan, Sajin Cherukayil, Ashokan Ashokan, Kumar Sethu … Serienbeschreibung: Malavika, die in das Dorf Perillor kommt, um dort ihre Liebe zu ihrem Freund Sreekuttan zu finden, wird unerwartet zur Präsidentin des Dorf-Panchayats…

[cinearticles]

Exclusive : Perilloor Premier League: A new Malayalam web series to stream on Disney+ Hotstar

Disney+ Hotstar is gearing up to launch a new Malayalam web series titled Perilloor Premier League, starring Nikhila Vimal, Aju Varghese and Sunny Wayne in the lead roles. The web series is a comedy-drama revolving around a cricket tournament in a village called Perilloor. The web series is directed by debutant Praveen Chandran, who has previously worked as the chief associate director of Kurup…

[bbbbbbbbatman]

Once Batman has revealed his identity to the JL, and after some strong encouragement from Superman and Wonder Woman, Bruce decides to try to start being a bit more "personable" with the rest of league. They've been colleagues for a decade and he trusts them all, and according to Clark and Diana this means there's no need for his whole mysterious "shadow of the night" bit, so he invites the league to dinner at the manor.

It is raining heavily, and even though it's not that late, it's nearly pitch dark but for the frequent lightning strikes. The league arrives together at Wayne Manor and the wrought iron gates stretch upward before them, ending in spikes at the top with ivy overgrown across them. They stand there, uncomfortable, wet, a bit weirded out, wondering how they're supposed to get passed the gates.

"This is creepy, right?" Hal says. "It's not just me?"

A voice. "Hello." As the league turns to the sound, thunder claps loud enough to startle everyone as lightning strikes, illuminating a small child standing on the other side of the gates that was definitely not there a second ago. He stands motionless under an umbrella, seemingly unbothered by the rain, expression vaguely irritated, and his eyes seem to flash green in the light. "I have been instructed to escort you inside."

The child doesn't move in any way but the gates slowly swing open, the creaking sounds sound straight out of a horror movie. Once they are fully opened, the boy turns and starts walking down the path without a word.

The league, some members quite freaked out at this point, follow him after exchanging some looks. They round a bend in the path and the manor comes into view. It is a massive dark structure, rising from the ground. Another lightning strike illuminates pointed spires, jagged edges, and it's gloomy, gothic nature. The sound of bats shrieking can be heard in the distance over the rain.

The league finally arrives at the front door, cold, wet, and thoroughly discomfited. An old man, a butler, looking out of time, opens the door, the child disappears inside. The butler welcomes everyone inside graciously but with a distant politeness. Despite the appearance of the exterior, the inside is well lit with warm light and seems inviting, though ostentatious. The league is relieved.

Until another massive lightning strike and thunder clap cuts the power off and the room is pitch black.

"Oh, you're here," a deep voice says from somewhere up above. No sooner are the words out than another lightning strike illuminates a dark, hulking figure on the staircase that was also definitely not there a second ago. At least two people scream.

Bruce is wildly confused as to why his guests are screaming, he didn't think any of them were afraid of the dark? The back up generator kicks on and the lights come back on and everybody seems to calm down. The rest of the dinner seems to go well (as well as a dinner can with the justice league and all of Bruce's kids) but strangely, to Bruce's confusion, it somehow only made his "spooky" reputation worse. He's not really sure why the whole league seems to think he lives in a haunted house.

[akultalkies]

Vijay Babu, Indrans, Kalesh Kalakkodu, Saiju Kurup, Surabhi Lakshmi, Roshan Mathew, Dev Mohan, Suresh Babu Naidu, Sanju Sanichen, Major Ravi, Rohini, Raveena Ravi, Mahima Nambiar, Akshay Radhakrishnan, Soubin Shahir, Raghu

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Bruce Wayne, mentor to many- father to none.

I want the angst of B having to come to terms that he doesn't know ANY of his kids not anymore at least and maybe never and the fact his kids are just- used to it?

Visiting Dicks apartment, he finds a picture of him smiling while surrounded by a bunch of little kids in spandax uniforms. Turns out he'd been a gymnastics instructor for about four years now and his most recent team had everyone qualify for state. (Bruce didn't even know he still practiced)

Jason stopped accepting Wednesday night patrols, but when he looked into it he found out that was the night he went to DND nights with his roommates every week. The roommates he met last semester after he decided to go to college and get an english major. (Bruce didn't even know he had applied)

Checking the library he found a small pedastal plague put up by Alfred displaying just one book. It said Cass was the author. Apparently she had gotten super into writing and published a book talking about language deprivation and lack of accomidation for deaf/hoh children born to hearing families. She had a book signing last month, Alfred had gone and grabbed this copy now on display (Bruce didn't even know she liked to write)

Tim finished a case early and let it slip he needed to sign off early to "meet up with his boyfriends" and hung up before Bruce could process. It only took a small glance at his middle child's latest social media post to see him alongside Superboy (what was his name?) and a blonde boy he didn't recognize. Both were leaned in to kiss his cheek and the caption said "Happy 3rd anniversary!!" (Bruce didn't even know he was interested in boys)

Steph's birthday came around and Bruce got her a new account and shoved a couple thousand for her to buy whatever she wanted. But he quickly noticed a pattern of everyone getting her- cat supplies? Apparently She had adopted a cat about a month ago to celebrate her new apartment, Mister Mystery was his name, and she had asked everyone for supplies instead of other gifts. (Bruce didn't even know she had moved)

He decided on some impromptu father-son bonding and tries to track down his youngest. But Damian is nowhere to be found. He gets pretty close to calling an emergency meeting but the moment he messages Oracle she reminds him Damian is in Chicago. Damian had won an art competition at school and his piece qualified for a gallery spot. The entire family had gone days ago and he was due back the next day. (Bruce didn't even know he cared about art)

Then Duke- his youngest in terms of time spent. But one he had grown fond of just as fast as the others. Especially working the day shift the time they spent was limited. Bruce got them both lunch, but it wasn't until halfway through eating that Duke had turned to him with panicked eyes and asked if the stew had shellfish. Duke had a severe allergy, thankfully Jason had been just up the street and had an epi-pen ready before they took him to Leslies. (Bruce didnt even know he had any allergies, let alone one so severe)

The worst part? There was no blow up. His kids didn't take his idiocracy as a personal insult or even raise a fight. They just rolled their eyes and moved on. As everyone crowded in the room, surrounding Dukes bedside he could hear Barbras voice. "Its not your fault, Batman may be omnipotent, but Bruce doesn't know anything really"

He wasnt meant to overhear or maybe he was, Oracle had always been petty But he couldn't refute it.

"But you have us"

Well- thats just it wasnt it? Even when Bruce was absent- his kids had each other. But was that ever meant to be enough?

[shyjusticewarrior]

Damian, age 8: I am familiar with carpentry and I don't know who my father is. So am I the messiah? I don't know, I could be, I'm not ruling it out.

[emo-batboy]

Somewhere out there in the DC multiverse, there’s a world where Battinson’s parents didn’t die, and he became the Lance Stroll of Formula One racing. Wayne Enterprises has an F1 team, Thomas brought Bruce to races when he was young, they indulged his love of cars until he was winning kart races at 8. He BEGGED to help design the race cars, ended up making a great car, and now Wayne has turned from a midfield team to nearly top three.

You’d think everyone hates Bruce because he’s a nepo baby, but he’s just so nice and smiley (like Lance lol) that everyone loves him anyway. His dad is the team’s chairman and pretty hands-on just like Lawrence Stroll. Fans call Bruce the F1 Princess as a joke since he’s already the Prince of Gotham, but then it sticks, and now everyone makes edits of him with tiaras on every time he makes it to the podium. He doesn’t get it, but he’s not going to complain either. His fans are just silly. (He blushes so much when anyone calls him princess to his face, though. Fight me.)

Bruce still insists on everything being black because it’s his favorite color. It was already mostly black before he joined, but now it’s even blacker. His suit is all black. The car is all black. The helmet is all black. He loves it. He looks just like the dark, regal old money rich boy you’d imagine until he’s smiling and talking about racing. (Imagine a meme with two cars next to each other, one being WE’s. It says: “Bruce’s Car v. Bruce’s Personality.” The other one is covered in glitter obv.) One time, a little girl gives him a tiara that she painted black herself and asks him to wear it if he wins. (He does win. He puts it on at the podium. He’s embarrassed the entire time. The champagne rubs some of the black away. It’s a treasured memory and sits right on top in his trophy case.)

His fellow drivers call him Brucie to tease him. He’s a bit awkward during interviews, but that just makes him endearing. He’s also tall for an F1 driver (nepo baby core) so there’s always jokes about him towering over everyone. One time, he came second to Lewis Hamilton, but you could still see he was visibly standing taller on the podium, and people would not stop making jokes about it. (It was mostly his hair, but you know how Twitter is.) Speaking of hair, it will NOT stay flat. He looks insane every time he takes his helmet off. He could be sweating for hours in there but when he takes the thing off, he looks like he’s through in a tornado. (Again, memes.) He knows so much about car mechanics, even for a driver, and will regularly start talking to other drivers or the press about the tiniest of parts in the engine or break system, unaware that everyone is completely lost. (Also memes about that.)

When he’s 23, he suffers a pretty bad crash. It knocks him out for about twenty seconds, and his mom and dad are ready to pull him completely from the sport, but he refuses to stop, and despite missing a few races to recover—his dad’s still a doctor—he ends up winning the next race and gets to stay.

During his F1 career, it’s pretty much guaranteed that he’ll get fastest laps, but he only gets podium like 40–50% of the time. There’s always drama that apparently Wayne Enterprises is trying to become top three, but they insist that they’re not as competitive. They will always have respect for every team, and it shows. They never join in on protests. They always wish the other teams luck, and they genuinely congratulate the winners. Bruce is always the first to hug the winner :)

Before Bruce joined, the Wayne team was always a midfield team, and they were perfectly comfortable with it. WE had good-looking cars, they designed good-looking cars, and they sold good-looking cars, and F1 was just a way of promoting that. Thomas loved watching the races, and he was happy to see them get podium a few times per season, and that was it.

Until Bruce became their lead driver, and he wanted to really earn his seat, and he wanted to get podium, and he wanted to design a faster car, and he wanted to win, and Thomas Wayne couldn’t say no to his son, and suddenly Wayne Enterprises was inching closer and closer to the front of the grid. Now, they’re still not The Best, but they’re a team that future drivers look up to.

During a season of DTS, Bruce is 27. Netflix films the Wayne episode when there’s a fatal crash in F2, and Bruce was nearby when it happened. He ends up crying on camera for ten minutes. They had to cut almost all of it, but we get the most gut-wrenching confessional about how after he heard the news, in that moment, he didn’t want to be an F1 driver. He admits that if he hadn’t become a driver, he was going to become a doctor like his father, and he wonders if he could have saved the driver’s life if he did that instead. “What am I really doing if I can’t help others? I could have been anything…Maybe being a driver was selfish. Maybe I don’t belong on the track anymore.”

He’s visibly distraught during the moment of silence on the day of the race, but Bruce decided to continue because he wants to make the fans and spectators happy. (That’s his job, anyway. That’s what he does.) Despite getting pole position the previous day, he doesn’t get fastest lap or make it to the podium, but he still gets fourth. He has a long talk with his father away from cameras and calls his mom. The future’s uncertain for a few days until Bruce comes back to training. To finish the episode, he says he’s going to continue driving, even if he might need a bit of time to get his confidence back, and he pledges to one day make the safest F1 car ever seen. Even if it’s part of the risk of being a driver, he doesn’t want to see any more drivers losing their lives to the sport they love.

When he’s around 35 or 40, he retires from Formula One so he can inherit Wayne Enterprises, and he takes his father’s place as chairman of the team. Since he has the time now, he holds up on his promise to make an even safer car—the designs inspiring safer car designs for other teams as well—and they pick out two incredible drivers who end up finally (FINALLY) moving Wayne Enterprises into one of the top three teams. They win the world championship twice in a row before falling back a bit and only winning it every couple of years, but they’re nonetheless fierce competitors. Bruce still has a ton of kids, some of which like F1 just like he does, but he is the only Wayne to become a Formula One driver.

I just think Battinson would love driving for F1 :)

[windmills123]

RPG maker sleepover !!

[beware-of-pity]

Sunny's Masterlist

Started: 01/12/2024

Last Updated: 15/02/2025

The Batman (2022)

Sins of the Father(s) ִֶָ . ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ���་༘࿐

Summary :

Bruce and you had known each other for as long as you could remember. His father and yours had been best pals and business patterns before Thomas Wayne and his wife Martha had met their demise in that dark ally when Bruce was just nine. You, on the other hand, were not privy to what he had gone through after your father was mysteriously assassinated while conducting his political campaign as he ran for senator of the state of New Jersey after years as Gotham's mayor. Upon the demise filling both of your lives and that of the people of Gotham, Bruce swore vengeance against all criminals, an oath tempered by a sense of justice for which he trained himself physically and intellectually, all to become Gotham City's guardian and protector. Now, two years into this project of his, which you've been kept in the dark of, you've both lost sight of one another. In hopes of getting closer once more, you invited him for Sunday's lunch. Unbeknown to your doubts, he comes. (Formerly titled as 'Bury me at Makeout Creek')

Chapter I: The Deal

Chapter II: You are here (and so am I)

Chapter III: You kicked and cried like a bullied child (A grown man of 25)

Chapter IV: Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends (Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends)

Chapter V: Is Pius pious 'cause God loves pious? (Socrates asked whose bias do y'all seek? All for Plato, screech)

Chapter VI: People say we're alike (They say we've got the same hair, it's you and me on the coin)

House of the Dragon

𓆰𓆪 You believe me like a god (I destroy you like I am) 𓆰♕𓆪

Summary :

Your family was dead; everyone had been killed. The war had been fought, many had died, and the victor had ascended the throne in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Everyone was dead…..except you, your mother and your little niece, Jaehaera.

TW: Mature. Self Harm/Implied Self Harm. Self Hatred/Emotional Hurt. Hurt/Comfort. Complicated family relationships. Reader is a Targtower.

Chapter I: I fell in love with a war (nobody told me it ended)

Chapter II: Strangers

Chapter III: Cathedral where you cannot breathe (no need to pray, no need to speak)

Chapter IV: "Angel" he calls me (does he know that I'm falling?)

Chapter V: Not a lot, just forever (Intertwined, sewn together)

Chapter VI: What fear a man like you brings upon a woman like me (Please, don't look at me)

Harry Potter

𐙚 Cinnamon Girl ⚯ ͛

Summary:

Only dreams can awaken consciousness. As the final battle between him and the Dark Lord draws nearer every day, Harry attends his sixth year at Hogwarts, warped by strange dreams, which he's sure someone is having a hand at. Hidden away by the shadows of the darkness in which those hands are summoned, he finds a girl not in synch with the world she dwells in. A seer, a siren, or perhaps just a girl he finds himself madly intrigued by.

Prologue: Oh, my life is changing everyday (In every possible way)

Chapter I: Oh, Who is she? (A misty memory, a haunting face)

Chapter II: I know you; I walked with you once upon a dream (That look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam)

[rachelfawcettmp]

i love my silly little autistic gay men

[mamulgogi]

[You are my light]

[temoguy0]

So I decided to do some absolutenutcase type comics lol

I'm thinking about making more.

Thank you for inspiring me, absolutenutcase162...

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

I just bought the original boy wonder comic aka Dicks debute and Oh my fucking god i'm cackling

The entire fucking plot is

Dick: "My parents were just murdered but I know whose responsible, Im going to do the good thing and tell the police"!! Batman: "Lets... not do that"? Batman" Im going to hide you in my home for a while" Dick"???" Batman: "Oh dont worry my parents were also murdered, and I want to ERRADICATE the ones responsible" Dick: "Oh in that case count me in"!!!

[TRAINING MONTAGE]

Dick: "What now that i'm trained"? Batman: "Do you have any experience as a... paper boy"? Dick: "Nope! Why"? Batman "I want you to become a gang target." [FIGHTING GANGS EXTORTING MONEY FOR ZUCCO MONTAGE} Zucco + his gang "Lets show Batman whose da boss eh"? Dick with a sling shot: ":DD" Gang member: "Oh-oh shoot"

Batman pulls a man up from certian death: "You wanna confess"? Blade, the goon: "Yes yes please, it was all Zucco" Zucco not about to let that slide,: "Oh you dirty squealer" Zucco throws him off the fucking crane Batman: "ROBIN TAKE THE PICURE"!!! Dick: "I GOT IT :DD"!! Zucco: "THE FUCK"??? Batman: "Haha- with this sent to the govenor, your boss will be the electric chair"!!

Exposition-

Bruce: "So now your parents death is avenged you ready to go back to the circus"?? Dick: "No, Mother and Dad would like if I continued the crime fighting life, and as for me well- I love adventure :DD"

[uselssdishwasher]

I Think about this post a lot @lilac-landscapes because one I think it’s amazing but also because I just think of that one scene in always sunny and it makes me laugh:

Sorry for the bad video I just had to get it out of my system

[sunny-daze-ahead]

Tim Drake: broke something inside me many years ago, and it feels like I just keep shattering there's ice in my blood and fire in my throat and electricity all down my skin Sebastian Ives, barely awake: First of all, that's cryptic, second of all, fucking go to sleep Why the fuck are you awake at 5 am

[beware-of-pity]

Sins of the Father(s) I

Masterlist

-Next

Bruce Wayne (Battinson) x Reader

Crossposted on Ao3

Summary:

Bruce and you had known each other for as long as you could remember. His father and yours had been best pals and business patterns before Thomas Wayne and his wife Martha had met their demise in that dark ally when Bruce was just nine. You, on the other hand, were not privy to what he had gone through after your father was mysteriously assassinated while conducting his political campaign as he ran for senator of the state of New Jersey after years as Gotham's mayor. Upon the demise filling both of your lives and that of the people of Gotham, Bruce swore vengeance against all criminals, an oath tempered by a sense of justice for which he trained himself physically and intellectually, all to become Gotham City's guardian and protector. Now, two years into this project of his, which you've been kept in the dark of, you've both lost sight of one another. In hopes of getting closer once more, you invited him for Sunday's lunch. Unbeknown to your doubts, he comes.

Chapter I: The Deal

. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐

 The air was crispy, and the gravel of the pathway churned under the wheels of his polished, black, vintage sports car. The last days of October had brought nothing but continuous rain and chills of cold air, but to his luck, this Sunday morning was mostly filled with grey clouds littering the sky and a hint of mist in the air. What a better sign that winter would soon be upon Gotham. As he stirred the wheel to direct his car towards the closed gate where beyond laid a mansion too familiar to his liking, all he could think about was why he had accepted your invitation for Sunday’s lunch. Maybe it was because you had practically begged him on the phone or because it wasn’t the first time he had turned you down in a month. Eventually, his guilt over the neglect he was ensuring over your relationship got to him, which prompted him to call you back and accept the invitation. Despite the night of fighting crimes and the darkness lying beyond the shadows the Saturday night before; for the sake of the occasion, he had turned in ‘relatively’ early from his nocturnal schedule to get some sleep before having to drive to Bristol Township, a few miles outside of Gotham City. Still, he would lie if he were not to say that his eyes did sting a bit at the strong light of the day, which he had almost forgotten the feels of as it grazed his skin. Fortunately for him, he always had a pair of sunglasses lying around, even in the car he barely drove.

He cursed your father, at times, for having built your family home so far away, but he knew he never did so in bad faith. It was as if he was still joking with him, like when he was still alive - how they would banter like a father and son would, which they had been for a time. Your father and his had been close friends and business partners when they were both alive. Best pals, they would call each other, so your families had spent a lot of time together. He fondly cherished those memories of his childhood, coming from a time when he remembered what genuine happiness felt like, which had now turned into a ghost of the past. The Sundays spent at the now burned-down Wayne Manor, the lunches, the dinners, the times you two played together, chasing each other around in the gardens until you would fall and scrap your knee and cry bloody murder - but also like how you would not want anyone but him beside you as your mother cleaned your wounds and bandaged those up. How after that you would not let go of his hand, how you would follow him around like a puppy, or a chick following its mother. He supposed it was because you were younger than him and sought out someone your age to help you through the world. But now? He barely saw you, and what he mostly heard from you came from the news, seeing as you had become a relatively known public figure, or your scarce and few phone calls, which he admitted were not few because you didn’t call, but because he barely had the time to answer them. Maybe it was that which had brought him to accept your invitation, and despite how he had been beating himself up for doing so during his ride here, the moment the mansion had come over the horizon and grazed his eyesight, something else too stirred in him.

Longing. Longing for a past that was just that, the past. For a time that would no longer be, one he would never get back because the world had taken it from him. Now the question was….was he willing to let himself back into what he had left behind to become the darkness that fought what lurked in it?

He didn’t have the time to think of an answer to that question, as he pulled the car into its lowest gear, allowing it to stop in front of the gate where a security guard was stationed. When he presses to the window, with a second double-take, seeing him inside, the guard smiles and greets him.

“Welcome, Mr Wayne. They’ve been expecting you” Bruce strains a smile, an unfamiliar sight on his face, as the guard waves him in.

When he parks at the front of the double door of your family home, a valet opens the door for him, who he leaves the keys of his car so he can move it out of the way, before he turns to the door, now open and with a butler he knows all too well, smiling down at him in front of it. “Mr Wayne, how good to see you again” Michal, your mother's butler, had practically raised him to a degree, or so he would think, just as Alfred had done, so the awkward pull he felt made him feel a stir of uneasiness. Could he be normal for a minute? He chastises himself; he doesn’t want people who he had been around all his life to suddenly think he had snubbed up and was too good to be in their presence because of how reserved he had become.

“It’s good to see you too, Michal” The same strained and small smile he gave the guard at the gate is back on his face, this time, less tense than the previous one “Please, please, come in, it’s too cold to be standing around” Michal hushed him inside. Seems like the heater of the house had been turned on, the drastic change of air making him shiver slightly “Let me take your coat” he allowed for it to be pulled from his frame. His dark, rich material suit, which Alfred had forced upon him, made him feel like a stuffed turkey at the Kentucky Derby, but he had allowed it so when Alfred had reprimanded him about keeping appearances, even with people he considered family. As he looked around the familiar environment he had not been in for a long time, he had not noticed the approaching figure beside him. A detective he was, and he could not feel a snooping mother crawling around.

“Oh, Bruce!” Your mother Marcia always had a fondness for him, especially before her son, your brother, was born, and often had coddled him and rinsed him with affection like he had been her own. His mother and yours had shared the same friendship your fathers had; he knew she had been especially heartbroken at the loss of her friend and for her to go through the same thing with her husband, made Bruce deeply feel for her.

“Mrs Estermont” the lines on his often hardened face, softened. The more he stayed here the more he felt himself melting out of his usual cold and unpassed self. His jaw relaxed under the motherly kisses she was bestowing on his stubbled cheeks “Oh, please. Marcia’s fine. No need for formalities, dear” she said. Bruce strained another smile “Marcia then”

Before he could put another word in, your mother was calling for your siblings to come and greet him. “You must see them, they’ve grown so much I’m sure you won’t recognize them,” she said, obviously proud of the two.

Indeed, it was a drastic change to now have a twenty-year-old boy and a nineteen-year-old girl standing in front of him when he mostly remembered them as a seventeen and fifteen-year-old duo. Had time passed so fast? Or maybe it was him losing time…

“Uncle Bruce” your sister’s voice brought him back to the reality now standing in front of him. Elena was the youngest, and now she had grown into a pretty young woman. He remembered her with brown shoulder-length hair, which she now sported Into a black wolf cut, delicately styled and many earrings, too many than he remembered. Your brother was no different; he too had grown his hair, and not only that, as he now stood taller than he had last time, though still not as tall as him.

“You two look good,” he said, his voice lighter than usual “You’ve certainly grown” While your sister gloated at his praise, your brother smiled mischievously “She’s still short” He knew well how this would end if he did not put a stop to it before it was too late. So, before your sister could protest, he said calmly “She will grow, in time” he said “No need to rush, huh?”

Your mother smiled “Bruce is right. No need to rush nature”, she said “Now, off you go and don’t cause any trouble”

He watched as the two scouted off, now just him and your mother again.

“You look pale, and you look thin” she pointed out bluntly but with a hint of underlying concern in her words. He sighed “I’m fine”, then he smiled slightly “Nothing a good lunch cannot cure, am I right?”

Marcia nodded her head, happy with his words “I suppose you’re right. I should be happy you even came. (Y/N) would have killed me had I asked her to ask you another time”

Bruce raised a brow slightly but kept neutral about her words “Had I had the time I would have come” he reassured “I know” she strained a smile “I just worry”

“Of course, you do” reassurance was what your mother needed most now and he wanted to give her as much as he could “And it’s my fault, I should have been around more” he shook his head. He only had himself to blame for the predicament he found himself in. She, in turn, shook her head as well “Nonsense, deary. You’re a grown man now, it’s normal for you to have taken over every responsibility your father once held.”

Bruce wasn’t sure if he would ever tell her that his connection to your family wasn’t the only thing he was neglecting. The stocks of Wayne Enterprises had been plummeting as of late, and he didn’t know how many papers he had to sign in those meetings with his accountants, Alfred forced him to attend, to recover the losses his negligence had been the cause of. And again, once more, there was no one else to blame but himself. He would be lying if he were to say he did not particularly care about keeping the company afloat. He used the funds he got out of it to fund his nightly crusades, making his bat suit, his gadgets, and the construction of his Batcave - all funded by the company his father had built, which he was currently sailing into a slow bankruptcy. He wasn’t sure your mother would take kindly to such revelation when Alfred didn’t, something his butler always reprimanded him for. He only nodded along to your mother’s words, as if in agreement.

“How’s (Y/N)?” He asked. Your mother sighed, a hint of exasperation in it “she’s….as busy as ever” she said “It was as hard to get you to accept your invitation as much as it was to get her out of Gotham to visit me”

Bruce chuckles drily - that sounds like you. “Does she not visit you often?” He asks “less and less these days,” She says, “It’s always an excuse with her. ‘I have a hearing on Tuesday’ or ‘I need to prepare a speech for Friday’”

It was obvious your mother was not pleased with you avoiding coming to visit, even with good reasoning “It’s a wonder I got her here today, and even now, she’s cooped up in her father’s office, working”

That catches him off guard slightly. He looks at her, thrown, to which Marcia catches on quickly “It’s hers now” Bruce didn’t know if he could understand the emotions your mother filled her words with “In his will, he gave it to her” fondness though was surely one of them.  He could see her, spacing in her thoughts slightly “I still cannot get myself to go in there” something significant in his voice as it quieted “I know.” There’s a finality in his words, the underlying understanding between the two deeper than they both realised. He could almost see it atop the staircase in Wayne Tower, the double doors of his parents’ room locked in a thick chain coiled crudely through the handles, a padlock sealing whoever stood in front of them off from whatever was beyond. He shakes the memory out of his mind

“Do you mind if I….?” His voice trails at the end, but the unsaid words were louder than those he spoke “If you want”, the warmth in her voice was almost a reassurance to him “Only if you think you…” She, too, it seems, cannot bring herself to finish her sentence, but Bruce understands what she wants to say more than if she had said it. “Bruce?” Her calling to him stops him in his tracks before he can step into the staircase “Please….talk to her” Bruce's expression falls slightly. He had not willed himself to admit so, but he had been slightly excited to see you again, but the mention of your father's office and your mother’s plea of conversation brought a wave of mixed emotions.

A sense of nostalgia for the memories he had shared with your father in that office, but also a pang of sadness at the absence he now felt. “….I will,” he replied, his voice slightly quieter. The wooden stairs creaked under the weight of his steps, though the sounds were muffled by the carpet covering them. He made his way to the office, his thoughts swirling in his head. He remembered the times he had spent in there with your father, discussing business and politics or just chatting over a glass of expensive bourbon that he probably was too young to drink. Your father had taught him a lot of things, preparing him to become the man he could have become in his father’s stead had things gone.. differently. Those memories now seemed distant and bittersweet, marred by grief and pain. As he reached the door, he raised his hand to knock, but before he could do so, he heard the sound of your voice from inside. Your mother had not told him you were with someone.

He paused, listening to the tone of your voice and the words you were saying, trying to decipher what was going on behind the door. "I don't care what you think, you've never taken this seriously" your voice was strained and serious "I will not take the fallout of the consequences of your actions coming to bite back at you” Though he knew it was wrong of him, he pushed towards the door to listen in. "you don't understand, you've got to help me out" he didn't know this other voice "I...I didn't kno-“ "you think i should throw myself at your feet to help you out after you lost me half of my father's assets to my uncle?" you asked, "for the sake of you?" you asked almost incredulous. He could almost sense it, the anger and disappointment in your voice, but also a hint of resignation.

“I didn’t know what I wanted” the other woman’s voice was now quiet and closed in “only what was expected of me” "You think I care?" you asked "You've helped your husband ruin my life, content yourself with that, aunt” His brows picked at the dressing of the woman, the realization of what he was listening in dawning on him . He could hear the deep sigh you let out "I'm part of the City Council now, I cannot just go around and get involved in marital spats" Bruce's ears perked up at the mention of you being part of the City Council. He felt a pang of guilt at missing out on this important development in your life which he had learned from the news on the TV. But it also filled him with pride. He always knew you had the potential to make a real difference in Gotham….like your father.

The room went quiet for a moment before the hushed conversation continued "I'll see what I can do", you said quietly, "but I cannot make any promises and remember, you’ll owe me for this” The tension in the room seemed to lessen, and he could almost feel so even from the outside. After a few moments, the sound of footsteps approached the door. Bruce instinctively let go of the doorknob, walking a few steps back as if he had just arrived, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. The door opened, revealing your aunt, who appeared relieved yet sombre. Mascara ran down he slashes, a clear sign of her previous distress, and her hair had become slightly untamed. The fried end caused by the bleach in her hair was seriously not helping her in making her look better. She caught a glimpse of Bruce, surprised by his presence, but quickly composed herself and gave him a thin smile. "Bruce....how you've grown," she said quietly. He nodded in acknowledgement, his eyes darting briefly to your office before looking back at your aunt. "Ms. Estermont" he greeted her, his voice calm and polite. He couldn't help but wonder what had just transpired between you two. “Bruce?” Your voice called from within, a hint of surprise and perhaps, he wanted to believe, excitement. Your aunt seemed to sober “I’ll go” she said “it was nice seeing you again, Bruce” Bruce gave her a polit nod of acknowledgement, moving aside, watching as she walked away, his thoughts still on the conversation he had overheard. As soon as she was gone, he turned his gaze back towards your office, his heart pounding slightly in his chest.

Sitting down in the same chair your father used to sit in, you cut his very image. The dark leather almost engulfs your frame in it. Bruce took in the sight, of you sitting in the very same chair your father had once occupied, a pang of nostalgia mixed with sorrow filling his heart. You looked so much like him, with the same intense gaze and determination etched on your features. The image of you, so reminiscent of your father, tugged at his heartstrings. He had always been fond of your father, who had been a mentor and a friend to him. Seeing you now, taking up the reigns and sitting in his chair, was a bittersweet reminder of the past.

"Bruce" you smiled "Come in,come in"Bruce hesitantly stepped into the office, his eyes locked on your smile. He tried to push aside the guilt he felt for overhearing your conversation, replaced by the warm feeling he always got when you smiled at him. He will not mention what he had heard, he had decided. 

"I'm glad you could make it" you said "i don't think I could go another month without seeing you” His heart skipped a beat at your words. It warmed him to know that you missed him just as much as he had missed you in these past months. "It's good to see you too" he replied, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face. "two months,huh?" you asked "we saw each other last in August, it's October now” Bruce nodded in agreement, realizing just how much time had passed since the last time he had seen you. "Yeah..." he admitted, his voice softer than usual. "Life just seemed to get busier and busier." It was the excuse he had been telling himself for the past few months, but deep down, he knew he had been avoiding you, trying to hide his alter ego from you. "I'm sure you are, now more than ever,no?"

His heart skipped a bit at your words. What did you know? Have you figured it out? Is that why you had asked him here? Was this all a ploy-

“I mean, I heard about your stocks plummeting, I’m sure you’ve been busier than ever with the company” You finished your sentence and he mentally beat himself up for what thoughts he just had. Even if you had figured it out, why was he suddenly thinking of an escape plan? You were his childhood best friend…the last thing you would do is turn in him to the authorities.

“Yeah…” he fidgeted slightly with his hands, his heart still racing from the spiral he had gone through. You smiled "I'm just glad you accepted my invite," you said "I've missed you, and....I've been worried” Bruce's heart squeezed at your words. He could hear the worry in your voice and could see it in your eyes. He knew he had been distant, and he felt guilty for making you worry. "I've missed you too," he said quietly, taking a few steps closer to your desk. "please, sit" you said, "make yourself at home, it is, after all, no?" With the many times he had spent in this house, his name might as well be on the lease.  He settled into the chair, allowing himself to feel at ease in your presence. As he sat there, he realised just how much he had missed being in your company. The soft lighting in your office, the familiar scent of old books mixed with the faint smell of your perfume, the tickling of the old cloak. It all brought back a wave of nostalgic memories.

"you haven't changed anything, I see," he said, his voice as always never above a murmur "I couldn't bring myself to," you said "It feels like, he's still here even after all those years, watching over me as I took in his steps”

Bruce's heart ached at your words. He could hear the hint of sadness and nostalgia in your voice, the pain of your father's absence still fresh in your mind. "He would be proud of you, you know that right?" he said gently, his gaze fixed on you. "I'd like to think so too," you said "but I still have a long way before I feel like I've reached the point where he would tell me that” He leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the edge of your desk. "You're being too hard on yourself," he said, his voice soft but earnest. "From what I've seen, you've already accomplished so much.” The truth in his words was so that you could not dispute them "You're on the City Council now" he added, a note of admiration in his voice. "You're making a real difference in Gotham. Your father would be absolutely proud of you, just like I am.”

"you've heard?" you asked with joy “I entered in September when the session began but I will be sworn in in January, I participate how I can for now, but I’m planning on building a coalition”

“that seems like a plan” he said “"You should feel proud. Not just anyone can be on the City Council. It's impressive, really”

You scoffed “It's certainly a job when you're opposing people like Mitchell and his second-in-command Tomlin,” you said, slumping slightly in the chair, that was almost too big for you ", especially with the upcoming elections. Oh, god, help me so, if he puts forward another motion to discuss to take away from Reál's rising numbers”

Bruce listened intently, noticing the exhaustion in your tone. The mention of upcoming elections and Mitchell's continuous attempts to undermine Reál's progress was concerning. "Don't let him wear you down," he said, his voice firm and supportive. "You're smarter and more capable than he is. You just need to stay focused and strategic.”

"easy for you to say when you don't have to deal with him almost every day" you retorted "god, I hope he loses so I won't have to deal with him”

“That’s one way to see it” he said with a hilt of his mouth “The better way. I need him out of my hair” you pointed

you turned your wrist to look at the time"Lunch is in about an hour" you said "can I offer you anything? Coffe? Wine?” To which he shook his head “I’m fine” “Oh, come on, Bruce. You can ask for anything,” you said “Don’t be shy” He watched as you stood to walk to the cabinet your father kept his ‘indulgences’, as he used to call them. “Alright, fine” he relented “cup of wine, red”

The cup in his hand felt heavy even when it wasn’t filled even halfway, the cristal shone in the light coming through the heavy curtains “Come with me?” he raised a brow at your question and only then did he notice you had reached in a drawer for the pack of cigarettes now in your hands.  He hadn't expected you to have cigarettes hidden in your office, especially considering how strongly you had opposed your father's smoking habit in the past. His gaze flickered between the pack and your face, wondering if this was just a one-time thing or if you had developed a habit yourself. Perceptive as ever, you took his silent question as your eyes locked “I always told him those would kill him” you fiddled with the packet “In the end he did die…just not from them”

The reference to your father's passing brings a pang of empathy to his chest. He remembered the countless times you had scolded your father, trying to discourage him from smoking. He could hear the resignation in your voice now, accepting the fact that your father's death hadn't been caused by cigarettes but by something else altogether. “Were those his?” He asked “yes” you paused “Now they’re mine” He knew the consequences of smoking all too well, and the thought of you giving in to that habit both concerned and frustrated him. “….I’ll come with you” he said, his voice betraying a hint of resignation and reluctance as he stood from the chair

“Jesus Christ, is it cold” you said once you were both walking in the back of the house, the gravel shifting as you walked along the path. You two were both covered in your coats and yet it seemed the weather was getting the better of you two. Bruce shivered slightly as the cold air hit him. He wrapped his coat tighter around his body, a contrast to the warm feeling he usually felt with you. "Yeah, it's freezing" he agreed, his breath visible in the cold air. He sipped at his cup, hoping for the wine to warm him slightly.

He watched as you placed the cigarette between your lips, the familiar taste of tobacco filling your mouth, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He knew how much you had fought with your father about his smoking habits, and now here he was, watching you indulge in this killer of a drug. Once lit, you took a long drag, feeling the nicotine fill your lungs. The harshness of the smoke stung your throat, but you welcomed the familiar sensation. Once exhaled, the smoke dispersed into the cold air, creating a cloud around you two. “I didn’t know you smoked” he pointed “You never told me when you called”

“I don’t” you said “This…is a once in-blue moon kind of thing” “It’s still a thing” he pointed out “Please, Bruce, spare me your cloak of self-righteousness” you huffed “Your objectivity over what I do died the day you pulled away from me” your words were biting…..but they were not untrue. He winced slightly, wanting to rebuff but the words died right on the tip of his tongue “I’m sorry” is all he could master “It’s fine” you reassured “We’re not children anymore….we cannot spend every waking moment together. I understand that”

“Still” he protested “I feel like I’ve abandoned you in a way”

You exhaled your previous drag “You can make it up to me”

He raised a brow “How?” Curiosity waned at him, awaiting your response and suggestion

You smiled with an underline of mischievousness “How about lunch?” You asked, “I’m free next Thursday”

Of course, his first response was to run away and tell you no. Could he commit again to something that wasn’t his vigilante work? But you…you weren’t just someone, you were his friend, his constant and comfort, who had been with him through thick and thin. He couldn’t just ditch you as he had in the past year after his activities had picked up after he had befriended Gordon and the signal was put into place. His grip on the glass of his cup tightened slightly. He pondered your offer for a moment, his mind racing to find an excuse. "I appreciate the offer," he said, his voice laced with a hint of hesitation. God, he hated this, he hated that he couldn't be honest with you about everything. He nodded against his best interest “Thursday then”

He only hoped he would not regret this.

A/N: I will make a master list soon, if anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters, please comment so. This is written with in mind The Batman (2022) and The Penguin (2024), so spoilers ahead. The first few chapters take place before the events of the movie.I tried to get Matt Reeves' characterization of him as best as I could. I absolutely love that we got an inexperienced, wet, always on the verge of tears, Bruce. He's so hot.