#bruce considering: hmm.

[fanaticalthings]

the muskification of twitter except it's lex luthor instead of elon lol

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[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Au where Dick adopted Jason

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and the YJ

So, Marvel in the YJ. He’s one of their den mothers and all that. So like, in this AU, and in fact in all of my posts so far, Billy’s kept it under wraps that he’s a kid. So, as a result, the YJ think he’s just this really cool big brother (dad (they just don’t know it)) type of dude. Like he’s so nice. And he’s so nice to them especially. Like, he treats all of them the same way he treats adults. He doesn’t doubt their abilities, and when they fail, he’s still there to encourage them to get back up and he doesn’t even make them feel bad about it.

Like, the one time he was asked to spar with the YJ cause they wanted to for funsies I guess, he positively whooped their asses and somehow, someway found a way to still compliment their abilities, even if they didn’t last that long because the battle was a little one-sided. To be fair though, they had asked him not to go easy, which he didn’t. In the end, he got promptly scolded by Canary heavily when she found out he quite literally used Kid Flash as a rag doll and threw him at Aqualad. She said that the entire tape of him having a “friendly spar” with those kids, was essentially just him bullying them. To which Billy tried to defend himself by saying those kids were plenty capable. The defense didn’t work.

Then, there was this time Kon mentioned he couldn’t fly and Marvel offered him a lift. This somehow ended up with Marvel sort of T posing mid air as Kon and Robin hung on one arm, Artemis and Aqualad hung on the other arm, then Kid Flash held onto one leg while M’gann held onto the other.

Flash: “Wow.” *looking up at the YJ and Marvel* “That’s… actually kinda majestic, not gonna lie.”

Superman: *also looking up at Marvel and the YJ* “Is it though? What if one of them falls?”

Flash: “Eh. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Kid Flash proceeds to almost slip off and fall, which almost gives both the speedster and Kryptonian a heart attack. Thankfully, he catches himself by moving his feet really fast to boost himself back up. Worst part in their opinion is that Marvel didn’t even seem to notice.

Then, there was the time M’gann with Robin about something. Batman was also working nearby on a computer.

M’gann: “Hmm… We need advice.”

Robin!Tim: “We need an adult.”

Batman: *keeping an ear out cause he’s always happy to help one of his kids*

M’gann and Robin!Tim: *thinking before they speak up at the same time* “Marvel.” *they then both walk out of the room to find the Captain*

Batman: *a little upset that Tim did didn’t come to him for help but also a lot more concerned as to why they thought Marvel was a suitable choice to ask for advice, especially considering the fact that just earlier that day, he had caught the man scribbling on one of the meeting tables like a 5th grader scribbling on their desk*

Contrary to what Bruce thought might happen (I.e. something going wrong) apparently Marvel’s advice wasn’t too bad, seeing nothing had gone wrong yet. (He later found out that the two had asked for the best advice on how to incapacitate your enemy quickly. He found this out when he saw Tim throat punch a man. Said man went down almost immediately. When prodded for information for as to why he did that, he proudly proclaimed “Cap taught me”)

Also a little tidbit from the Marvel Cursing post about the YJ thinking that Marvel called one of them a dumb cunt. Courtesy to @helps-the-writing-brain-go

Billy’s recently noticed that the kids are acting funny. Though, he supposes it’s not a bad funny. If anything, whatever’s got them acting weird has got them doing better on missions, but still. It’s weird. What’s weirder is that whenever he compliments them, they shine twice as brighter than they normally do. What’s even weirder than that is that whenever they’ve messed up recently they look twice as nervous. Speaking of which, this was one of the moments they’ve messed up.

Marvel: “So… Uh- that didn’t go so well.”

YJ: *obvious signs of anxiousness on some and subtle on others*

Marvel: “But that’s okay! But that’s okay.” *trying his best to make the anxiety in them disappear* “We just have to try to be better next time. Like, and I hate to say this, maybe try calling in an adult next time? Like me? I could’ve zoomed over and helped you guys.”

YJ: *look at each other*

Artemis: “Wally’s the one who said that we shouldn’t call you in a try to do this on our own.”

Kid Flash: *dramatic gasp* “You know why I said that! It would’ve helped us all if Kaldur had tried to put the fires near the gas tanks out with his water powers!”

Aqualad: “I was busy being attacked by nearly five different people.”

YJ: *dissolve into arguing*

Marvel: “Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wally what did you mean by it would’ve helped you all? Me not being there would’ve been good?” *confused*

YJ: *immediate silence*

Kon: “Wally found out that you think one of us is dumb cunt.”

Kid Flash: “Dude! You guys need to stop ratting me out!”

Marvel: “What.” *stares in befuddlement*

M’gann: “And then he told us. So we’ve been trying to think of ways to not be uh… dumb cunts.”

Marvel: *blinks rapidly* “Again, what? Wally, where did you get this information from?”

Kid Flash: “When you were making cookies! I heard you say blah blah blah, what a dumb cunt.”

Marvel: *still staring in confusion*

Kid Flash: “Then, when I asked what you were talking about, Mary said you were talking about our performance on missions.”

Marvel: “…Okay. I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t remember a thing of what you’re talking about.”

Marvel then goes on to make a speech about how they’re wonderful heroes who shouldn’t let one person’s words guide them, especially in risky situations like a mission. He then told them that he was now going to stress bake and make some Minnesota cool whip, jello, fruit, not really salad, salad. (Courtesy to @jedipirateking) On the bright side though, the speech did leave the teens feeling better.

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 4

Unemployment was not on your bucket list.

The rest of your shift dragged on, each minute weighed down by the persistent presence of Dick, Cass, and Damian. They loitered, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. It was unnerving, knowing they were there—observing, calculating. You tried your best to ignore them, focusing on the customers and getting through the shift, but their eyes on you were impossible to shake.

Eventually, you glance at the clock. Your shift is finally coming to an end. A wave of relief washes over you. Soon, you’ll be out of here. You’ve been expecting a call from Alfred any minute now, either letting you know he’s “on the way” or already outside waiting for you. You clutch onto that thought, hoping for a quick getaway.

But that’s when you feel it, a firm hand on your shoulder. You flinch, startled, and whirl around to find Cassandra standing right behind you, her eyes sharp and her smile almost unsettling in its warmth.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her tone gentle but somehow–wrong.

“Can I–um–help you?” you ask, your voice betraying your unease. Cass is just as overtly intimidating as the others, if not more so. You know who trained her, you know what she's done, what she's capable of.

“We’ll take you home,” she says simply, the statement hanging in the air like an unbreakable decree.

You blink, not sure if you’ve heard her right. “What? I—Alfred’s picking me up,” you stammer, trying to figure out why the hell they’d want to take you home instead.

Cass’s smile doesn’t falter. “Change of plans.”

You glance past her toward the table where Dick and Damian are waiting. They’re already standing, Dick’s usual smirk plastered on his face, while Damian looks like he’s already irritated by the mere suggestion of you being in the same car as him.

“Uh..” You contemplate walking home, imagining the quiet and cool Gotham air being far more appealing than sharing a car with these three. Maybe it’s not that far to walk? Maybe you’ll survive the trip on foot? But you know better than to argue with them—not when Dick is involved.

With a resigned sigh, you nod. “Okay,  I guess. I still need to get my bike though.”

Cassandra hums in approval.

The walk to the car was stifling. Dick led the way, his usual playful grin in place, but there was an intensity behind it that made your skin crawl. Damian followed closely, his silence more oppressive than any words he could’ve said. When you reached the sleek black car, one of Bruce’s more extravagant vehicles, your hesitation grew, but there was no turning back now.

As you slip into the backseat, you find yourself next to Damian, who's already glaring out the window like you’re the most offensive thing in the car, and the leather seat that smells faintly of expensive cologne. Cass takes the passenger seat, her calm demeanor oddly comforting despite the situation, while Dick slides into the driver’s seat.

The car hums to life, and soon enough, you’re speeding through the streets of Gotham. The tension inside the vehicle is thick, almost unbearable. You stare out your window, watching the city blur by, trying your best to disappear into the seat.

“Y/N,” Dick’s voice broke the silence, far too casual for the tension in the car. “You didn’t tell us you were working at that cafe.”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say much. “Didn't think I needed to? Why does it matter?”

Dick’s eyes flicked to you in the mirror, a glint of something dark behind his seemingly easy going demeanor. “It seems as though there's a lot of things you haven't told us (Y/n), hmm?”

He just completely ignored your question, and like an idiot, you dignify his question with your own response.

“I don't know why you in particular care, considering you haven't bothered to in the past four years.” You remark, crossing your arms. 

Dicks smile only widened as he cooed at your response. “Oh I don't care (Y/n), but you can't just do whatever you want, right? Your last name’s still Wayne last time I checked, do you know what that means?”

His eyes flicker to you, staring at you through the rear view mirror. You just shrug nervously, you had no idea where he was going with this.

“It means you’re not allowed to just fuck off and do whatever you want. What happens when you’re working and a rouge or random criminal recognizes you? It’ll be our job to drag you back.” He says smiling all the while. Dick doesn't really curse, not like this anyways, and it's starting to scare you. 

There was something sinister beneath his seemingly friendly demeanor. The way he was talking about you, it made you feel more like a possession than a person. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, eyes flicking to Damian and Cassandra. None of them seemed to be fazed by Dick's words. It was like they all understood something you didn't.

"Look," you muttered, "I just needed the job, okay? I didn’t think it was a big deal."

He just nods, “Which is why you'll be putting in your two week’s notice.”

Hold the phone.

“I'm sorry what?”

“I'm sure I spoke clearly, didn't i?”

“I'm–I'm not quitting my job.”

“Yes you are. In fact, you're going to call your boss and let them know right now.”

“You’re fucking crazy if you thin–”

“I'm not asking (Y/n).” He says, a certain edge to his voice. “Call your boss.”

You’re scared. You don't know why he’s doing this. Shaking, you pull out your phone, staring at the screen as if it could somehow save you from this situation. You know they won’t let you get out of this. Not with the way Dick’s smile is hovering on the edge of something dangerous, not with Damian’s silent approval and Cassandra’s eerie calm. The power dynamic is suffocating—this isn’t a request; it’s an order.

“Call,” Dick says again, his voice now a warning.

You swallow hard, your fingers trembling as you scroll to your boss’s number. You want to refuse, you want to stand your ground, but the fear of what would happen if you did keeps your rebellion at bay. You press the call button, and the phone rings in your ear.

“Hello?” your boss answers, their voice friendly and unsuspecting.

“Hey Daniel, it’s Y/N,” you say, your voice shaking. “I—I’m sorry, but I have to put in my two weeks’ notice. I—uh, I can’t work here anymore.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “What? Y/N, is everything okay?”

No. “Yeah, it’s fine,” you lie. “I just… something came up, and I can’t keep the job.”

Your boss hesitates, clearly concerned. “Are you sure? If this is about needing time off, we can work something out—”

“No, I’m sure,” you cut them off, glancing at the rearview mirror, where Dick’s eyes are still watching you with that unsettling intensity. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

You hang up before they can ask more questions. There’s a sick feeling in your stomach, like you’ve just lost something.

Dick hums in approval. “Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You don’t respond. You’re too numb, too angry to even find the words to fight back. The rest of the car ride is silent. When you finally arrive back at the manor, you slip out of the car without a word, making a beeline for your room. You can hear them behind you, talking quietly amongst themselves, but you don’t care. You just need to be alone.

The worst part was, you didn't even get to go back for your bike. Gotham wasn't exactly known for its secure parking spaces, especially for a bike left unattended for hours. By now, it was probably stolen or stripped for parts. Another loss to add to the growing list.

You collapsed onto your bed after a long, hot shower, letting the steam wash away the dried coffee and lingering bitterness of the day. The frustration and humiliation clung to you, but you tried to push it all aside as you buried yourself in mundane distractions. Homework? Done, though half-heartedly. Your phone? A welcome relief, a way to escape the reality of what your life had become.

The phone call with your friends was a lifeline. You started by relaying the bizarre events of your day—Dick showing up at your workplace, forcing you to quit, the awful encounter with the Karen who’d thrown coffee in your face. Arya and Ethan were outraged on your behalf, their voices rising with indignation as they expressed disbelief at how ridiculous your life had become.

“What is wrong with him?” Arya had exclaimed after you explained how Dick had basically forced you to quit. “It’s like he gets off on controlling you.”

Ethan chimed in, his voice laced with sarcasm. “It’s the Wayne family, what do you expect? They think the world revolves around them.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics eventually, giving you a break from the heavy reality of your situation. Arya’s excitement over the girl she liked responding to her Instagram story was a welcome distraction. She went on a rant about how this girl was clearly the one, and you and Ethan couldn’t help but exchange amused glances over the phone. Arya’s giddiness was infectious, and soon the three of you were laughing—deep, real laughter that made you momentarily forget about everything.

But, as with all good things, the fun came to an end with a knock at your door. You sighed heavily, already knowing what was coming.

"Master (Y/n), it’s time for dinner."

The familiar voice of Alfred carried through the door, his polite yet firm tone unmistakable. You groaned, dragging yourself off the bed with all the enthusiasm of someone heading toward their own execution. Dinner meant facing Dick, and after the day you'd had, that was the last thing you wanted to deal with.

You swung open the door, forcing a smile for Alfred, though you knew he could see right through it. "Hey Alfie, how was today?"

Alfred smiled, ever the picture of calm. "All good in a day's work, Master (Y/n). Might I inquire how work today was?"

You couldn’t help but grimace at the mention of work. "It... it was alright," you said, though the weight of your words made it clear that was a lie. Alfred’s raised brow told you he wasn’t fooled.

"Well," you sighed, the reality sinking in further as you spoke, "it doesn’t matter anymore anyways. I quit today."

Alfred’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "But my dear, I thought you adored working there? Whatever did happen?"

You couldn’t hold back the bitterness in your voice as you answered, "Dick."

Alfred’s eyes softened with understanding, and the sympathy in his gaze was almost too much to bear. "Ah, I see. I’m sorry you’ve had to do so," he said, and you could tell he genuinely meant it.

"It’s not your fault, Alfie," you replied, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging him into your mess. "Which is why I wanted to ask if I could have dinner in my room today? I don’t think I’ll be able to stay civil with Dick sitting there."

Alfred gave you a sad smile, one that only deepened the dread in your chest. "Usually, it would be more than allowed," he began, his voice gentle, "however, today your father has requested that you attend dinner no matter what."

Your heart sank. "What?"

"Yes," Alfred said with a hint of regret in his voice. "Unfortunately, you don’t have much of a choice today, my dear."

You stared at Alfred, dumbstruck. Since when did Bruce care whether or not you were at dinner? He barely acknowledged your presence most of the time, and now suddenly it was a demand?

Alfred gave you one last apologetic look before he turned to leave, his footsteps fading down the hall. You stood frozen in place, disbelief washing over you.

What the actual fuck is happening?

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[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt3 of forever teen Danny adopting JJ Tim AND Red Hood Jason.

[Pt2: Here] [Pt 4: here]

Jason had absolutely no idea what he was looking at. Talia's information was apparently out of date when she sent him back here. There's a tiny vigilante version of Joker talking to the air on a rooftop in Crime Alley that wasn't in any of her reports. The whispers on the street call the kid Poltergeist, and he's apparently a chaotic good character and used to be Robin #3 before a run-in with the Joker turned him into the loony he sees before him. Jason is pissed Bruce let a second kid fall into that monster's hands.

And despite Jason searching, he hasn't found anything on the guy that supposedly saved the kid from Joker. Harley is still fucked up from seeing this Phantom guy kill her "Puddin'", but considering she helped fuck this kid up, Jason has no sympathy.

"Shit!" Jason ducks for cover when the kid suddenly snaps his head over to him. When Jason looks back, the kid isn't there anymore. "Double shit."

"Why have you been watching me?" Is asked from behind him. Jason will deny the yelp and jolt if anyone asks, but he totally did as he whips around, finding the kid perched on the building's roof access. There should be no way he got there that fast (is the kid a meta?). He has his head tilted like a curious puppy, the dark purple lipstick smeared over his lips and facial scars not hiding his little little frown. "Who are you, anyways, Mr. Tank?"

"I just wanted to check out the new player." Jason is glad his helmet disguises his voice, it masks some of his awkwardness.

The kid pouts, "I've been around 3 years if you count my year as Robin, that's not very new. If anything, you're the new player, Mr. Hood."

So the kid does know who he is? "Yeah, well, I've been outside of Gotham for those 3 years. You're new to me."

"Hmm, you couldn't have been Red Hood before you left." A second teenager's voice says from just to the left of Poltergeist, startling Jason. An unearthly looking 14(?) year old fades into view. The kid(?) is floating, answering the question of how Poltergeist got to where he is without Jason noticing. "Your ectoplasum is funky, my guy. How long have you been an Revenant?"

"A what?" The helmet can't mask how baffled he is.

"Yeah! Yeah! What's a Revenant, Dad!?" Poltergeist excitedly asks the other kid(?). The (not)kid's obviously not human, so Jason is obviously an idiot for assuming. Guy looks like a kid, but doesn't have the vibe of a kid. And he gets the vibe Poltergeist is call this guy "Dad" in a 100% "this is my father" way and not the weird "I call my sexual partner Daddy" thing that cropped up while Jason was without internet access.

"A Revenant is an undead that had a violent death and had a need to avenge themselves so desperate they rebound their soul to their body." The unknown explains, then seems to stare into Jason's soul. "Something is off about your ectoplasm, though. You should really get that looked at."

"Looked at by who?" Jason asks warily, "Who even are you?"

"Ah, I'm Phantom. Friendly neighborhood dead guy." Phantom fucking finger guns, what even is Jason's life? "And if you're asking that, I can only assume you've never been to the Infinite Realms."

"The where??"

"A dimension that runs parallel to this one. It's the dimension of the dead, undead, and neverbornes. It's very green." Phantom explains. "They'd have more knowledge on how to fix you the best, but I currently don't have easy access to it and don't know where you could. Good news! I'm pretty sure if I give you my own ectoplasm while slowly removing the fucked up bits of yours, it'd straight itself out. The unfortunately side effect is you'd be considered my kid in the eyes of the Realms and I'd want to know who the fuck you are before either of us commit to that."

"It'd fix the pit rage?" Jason asks in a daze. He's killed more people than he ever wanted because of the blackout rage he gets sent into.

""Pit rage"?" Phantom is staring into his soul again.

"I get so angry I blackout and can't truly tell you what I did during the, usually, hours I'm lost to it." Jason explains, "It's how I got on B's radar before I meant to."

Poltergeist is now creepily staring at him. Kid really is mimicking his dad.

"Yeah, no, that's not normal." Phantom scrunches his face in thought. "Rage is normal for a Revenant, it comes with the territory, but blackout rage isn't..."

Phantom looks over to Poltergeist, "How do you feel about a sibling?"

Poltergeist hasn't stopped his staring. It's freaking Jason out. Even more so when the kid starts cackling in delight. It sounds Joker-like. Which is fair given what Jason heard about how the kid became this way.

"I know who You Are Revenant ~!" Poltergeist sings. Making Jason freeze, because seriously??? The Bats haven't figured it out, but this kid in one meeting did???

"Oh?" Phantom asks fondly.

"He's the second Robin!" Poltergeist crows. "You definitely have my permission! How could I refuse the best Robin being my brother??"

"Wha-how-what the fuck, kid?" Jason sputters.

"You thought I wouldn't recognize you?" Poltergeist grins manically. "I stalked you and the B-man every chance I got before you died! I know you! Batsy was a fool to let you go!"

"You what now?" Jason doesn't know how many existential crisises he can handle in one conversation.

"I had a baby stalker phase!" Poltergeist admits happily before turning to Phantom, "Does being a vigilante mean I'm still a stalker?"

Phantom seems to genuinely think about it before answering, "I think you have to be to be a Gotham vigilante. Just try not to let it branch out to other areas in life. Normal people, and probably normal heroes and vigilantes, would probably get scared off."

"Jazz already told me." Poltergeist whines and flops over. Jason can now only see his feet. "Normal people are boring anyways."

Phantom just shakes his head fondly before looking back at Jason. "I'll let you think on it. We'll be around."

And with that, Phantom scoops up Poltergeist and turns them both invisible. Poltergeist's shriek of "Ta Ta!" and happy cackles echo in a way that means Phantom is flying them away.

Jason doesn't need to think on it, but he appreciates the thought.

He heads to his nearest safe house and starts researching up a storm on the supernatural to at least have a baseline on what he (and Phantom possibly) are. He takes a lot of the info with a grain of salt, though. He'll have lots to ask when he meets up with his potential new family. Who needs the Bats anyways? B told him he wasn't his father before he died, why should that change now that he died and came back? Nah, B will just be mad he's a crimelord. Phantom and Poltergeist don't seem to mind at all.

Yeah, he's joining their weirdass family. Maybe he should add a symbol or something green to his vigilante get up to declare it? He'll decide after he talks to them. Phantom might have a family crest or something.

[neontiger]

shelter

♡ jason todd x reader

♡ fluffy angst. Jason Todd questions his ability to love and be loved.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

There was a time when you could sleep through the night sounds without stirring - every siren, every shout from the sidewalk, every blaring alarm rolled off your body without so much as a toe twitch.

Nothing was the same anymore. Not since Jason had entered, since you discovered what he did at night, who he was. Now you heard the mice in the walls and the wind on the glass. Always hanging off some precipice, always wondering, asking. Tonight?

Was it worth it? Mostly.

So it's a restless sleep you're pulled from when your phone rings. It jerks you into a sitting position and has your heart punching bruises against your rib cage, your hand reaching to the nightstand to answer before it stops.

One deep breath, to calm your heart, though it doesn't have the desired effect. Your voice still trembles. "Hello?"

"Hey. Did I wake you up?"

Jason sounds the same. His voice is always rougher behind the mask, but the image of him in your head has him without it. Somewhere alone in the darkness of Gotham. You imagine an alley; you don't really know where he goes on these nighttime patrols.

"No," you lie. Your eyes dart to the television, asking if you're still watching? "I was a watching a movie. Where are you?"

He grunts, a noncommittal noise meant to be the answer you're looking for. "I didn't mean to. Sorry."

"It's fine anyway, Jay. I don't mind you waking me." You settle back against the pillows. Habit keeps the spot on the side of the window open for him. "Are you coming over tonight?"

"I don't know."

His words, their tone, wash over you like ice water. Fixing the blanket over your shoulders does nothing. But you don't ask, don't overstep the boundaries he keeps around himself. Don't know how yet.

You're not imagining him right.

Not an alley. He's in an apartment. It's trashed, holes in the fabric of the couch, mold on the walls, trash scattered across the floor. Aside from him, there are two others, a woman and a child. He doesn't know them, but he hurts for them: she's blissed out on some new drug, and the kid's asleep without a care or the knowledge of where the night had taken Jason, or why that even matters to a kid like him. He doesn't know the mistakes that have been made. Not until the sun rises.

He wants to believe it's everything that's happened to him, that's why he's so angry, why he sometimes feels like a million pieces of broken glass trying to fit together again. Why control feels like such a far-off thing, always out of reach. His hands react before the rest of him catch up, and he wants to act like it's everything else - his mother, his father, dying and coming back, Bruce - to blame.

Because if it's on him, then that means he has to be the one to admit it. He has to be the one to fix it.

"Jason." Your voice is soft, like a pillow against his ear. He's woken you up, he knows, and he hates himself for that. He shouldn't have called. Didn't want to talk anyway, but hearing you is fixing something inside him.

"Go back to bed," he says. "I have to take care of some things. You have work tomorrow?"

A little noise, hmm, from your pursed lips. He knows it, makes him smile. The woman nearby moans softly. "Maybe," you say. "Feeling like I might be getting sick, though. Maybe I should skip, just in case."

He's ruining you. Upending your life and throwing it off course, and how undeserving he was of that privilege. This needed an end. It would only get worse from here, and you would end up hating him, or dead.

That thought cuts like a light through the fog. Blinding. Consumes him, swirls in his skull. He looks up at the woman again, and how deserving he is of this scene - of this particular mess he's made, not even considering the kid in the other room who no longer has a father, soon won't have a family at all. Another life destroyed.

Can't destroy yours. This has to end and it has to be now. Better to be hated than speaking at your funeral.

Jason swallows. "I...we need to talk."

"Then come over," you say. "I miss you. I'm worried. You don't sound good."

The words don't come. He's not sure what to say.

"If something happened, you can tell me. Or not, if you're not feeling up to it. I'm not going to act like I understand or I know, like, the shit you do, but you need a space to talk, I'd like to be that space."

Again, he can't answer. He listens not just to your voice but to the sounds you make on the line: the bed complaining as you shift, the rustle of the blanket. And he decides, maybe not yet. Maybe a little longer.

Cruel, that. You deserve more. He can't give it.

"How much longer will you be?" You ask, as if this is the most normal thing.

"Might be morning before I get to you," Jason says. "Don't wait up."

You laugh, and he can't help but smile. "You're not the boss of me. Besides, I don't think I can fall back to sleep. Your fault. I'm not complaining though."

Just a little longer, then he'd figure out a clean break. "Alright. I'll try to be quick."

"Careful over quick, okay?"

"Yeah. Sure." His fingers tighten on his phone. There's words he wants to say but he knows he shouldn't, if only because it will make things worse in the end. "I'll see you soon."

"I'll be waiting. Be careful, Jay. I want you home."

Home. Was that you?

"I will. Go back to sleep," he says, again, for no reason. Bids you goodbye and hangs up finally to deal with the situation in front of him. More lives he's about to ruin.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The sun is shaking sleep from her eyes by the time Jason makes it to you, appearing on your fire escape with a soft thud. The sound pulls you from your show, and you watch his grand entrance: prying open your window and slipping inside, still in uniform, mask and hood concealing his face. You leave the warmth of the bed to help him undress wordlessly, and retrieve from your closet clothes he's left here.

"Sorry I'm late." He tugs on a pair of sweatpants while you catefully arrange his uniform on the armchair by the window.

"Better late than never." You close the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his waist before standing on tiptoes to kiss him. "Tired?"

He nods. "Long night."

That's all he'll tell you, and for now you have no option but to accept it. It's fine.

You wonder what he thinks, as he slips into bed with your, pulls the covers up and you into his arms. What goes through his head. Tonight, he smells like iron and gunpowder, like he does so many nights. Maybe that's part of it; there's things he's done he doesn't want forgiveness for. How do you deal with a man like that? One who sees himself in the most undeserving light?

It's confusing, and there were times to give it up, but those have long passed. Now his future is mapped on yours.

You brush your fingers lightly over the scar that cuts down the center of his abdomen. "I love you, Jason," you whisper, words light kisses to his neck.

He hugs you tighter. He won't say it, and that, too, is fine for now. There is always tomorrow, and there always will be.

In time, sleep will come for you both: you first, then Jason. But for now he lays awake, holding you as your lips part and eyes close, your body relaxing into exhaustion again. He thinks about too many things. Can't calm his thoughts.

But maybe there is tomorrow. Maybe for now, you can be his home.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Give Me Shelter, For My Heart | Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader | One Shot? 3k

Things are missing around the Avengers' compound and a newly returned Bucky is acting weirder than normal...Steve and Sam go to investigate and discover more than they bargained for.

Warnings: 18+ for language and suggestion of Hydra violence/torture/experimentation, omegaverse themes including alpha & omega, suggestion of pregnancy/pups, wolf shifting Rated F for Fluff and G for good friends

Challenges & Prompts: @buckybarnesevents Alpha Bucky April with extra prompts - word count, nesting, purring, beta characters, (I'll let mods decide if this hits the breeding/baby fever prompt). And @fandom-free-bingo 'forehead kisses'

Graphic by me and Canva, dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Hmm,” Steve looked around the supply room, surveying the gaps and empty shelves, normally well stocked with blankets and provisions. It was the third time this week he’d found himself at a loss, not just for words but his things too. Everything seemed to be going missing. 

First it was a few plates and mugs from the galley kitchen by his office, then it’d been the lunch he’d left for him and Bucky in the fridge. Last night he’d gone into Bucky’s room to make sure he was okay and found the man sleeping on a bare mattress, all the sheets, pillows and blankets were gone and the newly revived Bucky refused to explain what had happened to them or even acknowledge that there was anything wrong at all. He hadn’t even addressed that fact that the window was wide open and it looked as if he was sleeping in his shoes. 

Which brought Steve’s thoughts to the man himself. Bucky had been so odd since he’d returned. For a day or two, he’d been something like his old self, despite the awful situation they found themselves in, he’d joked with Steve and reminisced with the few memories he had. They’d enjoyed a beer together and he’d even met with Tony during their mediation and patched things up. 

Then, they’d all climbed onto the jet and he’d become distant, pacing like a caged animal until they’d landed. As soon as the doors were open he’d vanished for forty-eight hours and sent the entire compound into mayhem before strolling back in as if nothing had happened, bruised and covered in blood. Judging by the bandages he sported later that day, his cuts and bruises spread under his shirt and trousers too. 

Steve knew that he’d changed during his time with Hyrda, back in the 30s they’d both been betas, happy to plod along ignoring the madness of the few alpha’s in Brooklyn. It had been a rare thing then, to be an alpha, now they were considered a dying breed, so when Bruce’s tests had revealed that Bucky was an alpha now, they’d tried to take it in their stride that he might go off on his own sometimes, especially since omegas were even rarer. But there was still so much they didn’t know, so much to unpack and discover about the Bucky they’d rescued, and Steve was so desperate to spend time getting to know this new man that all the time apart was making him worry. 

“You okay?” Sam asked from the doorway, leaning in to hand Steve a hot cup of coffee. 

“Just doing a stock check.” 

“He take something else?” Sam stepped into the small room, lined with shelves and shelves of tents, camping stoves, parachutes, it seemed to go on and on. The bare grey shelves where stock was missing was stark against the white washed walls. 

“He?” 

“Barnes,” Sam sipped his coffee, matter of fact, and Steve confronted the worry that had been plaguing him. 

“It’s Bucky, isn’t it?” Steve dropped his head heavily and Sam patted him on the back, still sipping his drink. 

“Sorry man, told you, he’s not right yet. He’s not hurting anyone though, if he hates his bedding, who cares, if he hates your lunches, who could blame him.” 

Sam sidestepped Steve’s halfhearted swipe with a grin on his face. 

“But what’s he doing with it, Sam? Where’s it all going?” 

“Hell, I don’t know, have you asked him?” Sam raised his eyebrows. 

Had Steve asked his best friend, who flinched at his touch and shied away from any conversations? Bucky who vanished for hours at a time and came back looking as if he’d been dragged through a hedge? No, he hadn’t. He’d been too scared to confront what might be going on, what latent part of his programming might be at play. 

“Look, if you’re too scared to ask why don’t I?” 

Now it was Steve’s turn to raise his eyebrow, it wasn’t that Sam and Bucky didn’t get along, they just didn’t get along yet. Steve was working on it. 

“What if we…followed him?” He offered instead and Sam laughed again. 

“Who knew Captain America was scared of his own friends,” he couldn’t contain the chuckles. “Fine, fine. Let’s keep an eye on him.” Sam turned to the ceiling, more comfortable with the AI than Steve was. “FRIDAY, if Sergeant Barnes leaves his room, please can you alert us - privately?” 

“Of course,” the soft voice answered and Steve gave his friend a weak smile. 

FRIDAY’S alert went off twice a day, every day, over the next week. But despite their best efforts neither Steve nor Sam managed to catch up with Bucky. 

It wasn’t until the following Saturday that they managed to follow him. Bucky was supposed to be at a training session to get his official certifications but they’d both had a feeling he’d try and skip it. As predicted they’d spotted the blue of his new henley edging around the side of the compound, a full backpack strapped to his back. 

Bucky ran across the grass and towards the thick forest. His still uncut hair was tied back but tendrils fell out as he sprinted into the wind. 

He was surprisingly loud, as he strode quickly between the trees, snapping twigs and branches that Steve knew he could’ve dodge even before the serum and his training. Sam looked at him, both of their feet silent as they followed. 

Bucky’s speed increased as he turned his face up into the breeze, his backpack jostled against the trees, bouncing when he began to run. 

Steve kept up, sending Sam wide, into the breeze, in case Bucky doubled back. 

Just as he was starting to feel lost in the repetition of trees and ferns, Bucky burst into a clearing and Steve slammed to a halt. 

The pine trees gave way to a small patch of clear sky, shining down on an old shed. Unlike the other abandoned guard houses, this one had obviously been cleaned recently. The small porch was swept and a pair of Avengers camping chairs were arranged neatly facing into the forest. A line had been strung between the cabin and the trees where one of the missing blankets fluttered in the gentle wind. 

Steve crouched down, motioning to Sam on the other side of the clearing to stay out of sight. 

Bucky approached slowly, “Cățeluș, are you here?” 

At first there was nothing and then a wolf nosed its way out from behind the door, it’s chestnut brown fur almost gold in the sunlight. It leaped forwards from the porch and shot across the clearing, leaping into Bucky’s arms. 

Steve whipped his head up to try and find Sam and by the time his eyes found Bucky again the wolf was gone, replaced by a woman pulling on a large t-shirt from Bucky’s backpack. 

“James!” Her sweet voice rang out in the otherwise quiet forest. 

Swamped by Bucky’s familiar red henley, you shot from the door and into Bucky's waiting arms, the back pack dropped to the floor and forgotten. 

She was swamped by Bucky’s red henley and he wrapped you in his arms, one large hand on the back of your head, tucking you into his neck. The other supported your legs, now wrapped around his waist. 

In the clearing Bucky's shoulders relaxed as he sank into your embrace, kissing and nipping at your neck. In return you tipped your head, practically purring at the attention and wriggling in his arms. 

“Have you been okay, baby.” Bucky asked, pulling away enough to look you over. 

“I'm okay, I missed you though, James, please don't leave me again.” You begged cupping his stubbled cheeks in your hands. 

Bucky turned into your palm and kissed it, “I know, I know, I’ve been making sure it’s safe for you.” 

Steve's heart sank. Bucky didn't feel safe? 

“You trust me, don't you, my little omega.” Bucky rubbed his nose into your cheek and you giggled, holding him even tighter, your hands in his hair. 

An omega? 

Sam stared over at Steve, eyes wide. 

It was clear to them both that this was no chance encounter and all Bucky’s odd behaviour suddenly started to make more sense.

Steve motioned for Sam to leave, they could sneak back to the compound and perhaps bring this up tentatively. Perhaps leave some items you might like lying around in the hopes that Bucky would take them and understand that his secret was out, but it was safe. 

Sam moved swiftly round the clearing as Steve continued to watch Bucky. 

Bucky vanished into the cabin, leaving you on the porch alone, snuggled into his shirt and pressing the collar to your nose. 

“She’s cute,” Sam whispered, squeezing up against Steve, still hiding in the overgrown ferns that lined the edge of the cabin. 

“We can’t let her sleep out here. She must be hungry and cold.”

Bucky emerged from the cabin carrying two of the missing mugs, balancing them carefully on the railing before scooping you up into his lap. His hand hovered by his mouth, sipping in slow motion as his eyes scanned the tree line and Steve took a breath, sitting back quickly. 

“Stay here, Cățeluș,” he was up in a flash, eyes always on the tree line even when he reached into his boot to pull out a familiar gerber knife. 

Instead of flipping it into his palm, he balanced it on the arm of your camping chair. Eyes still on the trees he placed his metal hand on top of your head, “stay here and stay safe, follow the plan, do what you need to.” His voice was low, series, almost a growl. Far away from the happy, loving tones he’d been speaking to you with before. 

You nodded, and as soon as he felt your head move he was up and off the porch. 

Steve and Sam looked up in time to see a wolf leap towards them. 

It was true then, the experiments had worked and Steve had the cold feeling that returned every time he discovered something new about his friend during a fight, but he had no time to worry about it now. Not when the wolf was closing in on them. 

It was huge, its white fur dusted with fallen leaves, but its teeth gleamed in the afternoon sun as he pounced, snarling. His paws the size of dinner plates slamming into the ground in front of them, teeth bared and snarling. 

Steve rolled away, pulling Sam with him and covering his body, regretting not bringing the shield. 

“Bucky!” Sam shouted from under Steve’s arm

“Bucky it’s us we don’t want to hurt you!” 

The wolf pulled back from the two men pinned beneath him, and something like clarity passed over Bucky’s icey blue eyes and he sat on his haunches, head cocked to one side, ears floppy. Then it stood, rounding the bushes and, in a blink, the man had reappeared still hiding before the foliage to cover his naked body. 

“Steve -” Bucky looked thoroughly confused, 

“Bucky, we’re so sorry we shouldn’t have followed you.” 

“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice wavered, his body cold without his fur and with his clothes left behind in the cabin. 

“We were worried about you, man, you’ve been so weird - stealing stuff, going missin’, can you blame us for getting creeped out?” Sam raised his eyebrows and Bucky’s brow furrowed. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to -” he gestured back towards the cabin and, as if remembering he’d left you behind with no way of knowing he was safe he turned and ran back to the clearing. 

Steve and Sam jumped up, chasing after Bucky once more. 

The cabin porch was empty when Steve picked his way down the slope of mud and rocks into the clearing. 

A howl rang out as he got closer to the little house, a high, pained sound and then the response came, low and level. 

There were two wolves now, hidden at the side of the cabin in the shadows.

The white wolf kept itself half turned towards Steve and Sam, who kept quiet and still, barely daring to breathe, allowing its companion to approach slowly. 

The brown wolf dropped in front of the white, ears flat back against its head, and then rolled over, showing a soft belly that the white wolf nuzzled gently before turning back to Steve and barking sharply. 

Steve held his hands up and the wolf barked again, turning tail and returning to the cabin. 

It took only moments for Bucky to show himself on the porch, pulling his henley back down over his now dirt streaked belly. 

“Come in,” he gestured up the stairs and vanished again. 

The cabin, though run down, was well kept. The porch was swept of leaves and there was even a little mat by the door. 

“Shoes,” you whispered, pulling on Bucky’s sleeve as you entered the main living space, making an attempt to hide behind him. You’d dressed again too, also in one of Bucky’s henleys and a pair of leggings that Steve recognised as Avengers recruit issue. 

“Do you mind?” Bucky asked while Steve and Sam stared between you both. 

“Shoes,” you turned to look up at Bucky again, eyes pleading in one moment and then flicking to the two new men treading mud into your home. 

“Your shoes, take them off.” Bucky helped them arrange their boots neatly by the door while you pottered around the fireplace. “This is her nest,” he whispered, making sure the doormat was straight and the little curtain was neat over the window. “It’s important to omegas, to her,” you turned shooting a glare over your shoulder, “to us-that it’s kept just right and she hates shoes inside.”

In the small living space a camping stove had been set up with a kettle, a portable fridge, and an assortment of mugs, both Avengers field regulation and novelty, which were set neatly on the mantel. You chose four, and placed them next to the kettle while it steamed happily away. 

Bucky spoke softly to you in a mixture of English and Romanian, but you didn’t come any closer to the strange men. You’d seen them before, on the television and in Bucky’s notebooks, but now that they were here, so large and imposing, you couldn’t bring yourself to even look over. 

“This is Cățeluș, well, that’s not her real name but we couldn’t find that. She - uh -” you watched Bucky struggle for words and lay a hand on his cheek, smiling warmly up at him. Your Winter, your James. “-I don’t want to say the word, it upsets her, but she was with me when I was - him - part of the experiments.” 

You poured the tea quietly, watching the steam rise into the darts of sun making their way through the broken knots of wood in the wall, and you took a deep breath. With shaking hands you gave the first man, Sam, a cup. He had a gentle face, a wide smile and he didn’t look at you with pity, as you feared, only interest. 

The second man held his breath as you approached, keeping his hands as close to his body as possible until you pushed the cup towards him. Steve. Bucky had lots of pictures of Steve in his notebooks and had told you more stories than you could remember, but he didn’t look sickly, he looked too big for the space, his shoulders drawn in, slouched. You appreciated that he was trying not to look scary, even though your every nerve was on edge.  

Bucky took the proffered mug from your hands with a kiss to your forehead and you sighed, allowing him to steer you to the only arm chair in the room and then passing you your own tea. 

“We got out, eventually and - I brought her here.” Bucky sat on the rolled arm of the chair, draping his own arm over your shoulders and fitting you into his side. 

Steve and Sam could only stare. 

“Why didn’t you bring her to the compound? She can stay -” Steve turned to you, “you can stay, either in Bucky’s room or you can have your own room if you’d prefer.” 

It took you a moment to process the offer, but eventually you shook your head, turning into Bucky’s side. 

“It was awful - in there, with them she, we both -” Bucky struggled for the words, the desire to protect you rising inside 

“It’s okay,” Sam said carefully, “I know the transition’s been rough on you, Bucky, I can’t imagine what it’s been like for her, how you even got her out here. But there’s nothing to be afraid of, maybe she’ll come with you? If you suggest it?” 

Sam kept looking at you, his eyes soft and encouraging but you turned away, pressed your face into Bucky’s ribs where his scent had soaked through his shirt, reassuring and primal, chanting in your head Alpha, safe, Alpha, safe. You did miss him, when he was gone, but how could he keep you safe in that place. 

You’d seen it, once or twice, through the trees when you took a walk, looking for whatever you could find in the forest. Guards left lots of things behind, bottles and coats and jackets, useful things. You collected them all, skirting around the edge of that horrid white building and hoping to never see the terrifying things that flew out of it, men in suits and robots, it was too much. 

“You can bring whatever you like with you, and maybe Nat and Wanda could help you with some new things, if you liked?” Steve followed Sam’s lead, keeping his voice steady and low. 

“James - my nest.” You mumbled, gripping his henley in your fist. 

He dropped a hand onto your head, “we can do whatever you like, baby. You want to stay here, we can stay, you want to go to the compound, we’ll go.” 

You felt Bucky’s heart rate pick up, its beat hammering and your anxiety grew too, your breathing more ragged, you turned even further into him, practically climbing into his lap, the henley you’d taken from him riding up. 

Instantly you knew it was a mistake, the scars of your time in Hydra were still visible, raised on your skin, yellowing patches of healing bruises and calloused skin from repeated bouts in the chair. 

Sam and Steve could barely conceal their inhale of breath. 

“Bucky, did you get her checked by a doctor or…” Sam trailed off, Bucky looked angry again, his arms fully surrounding you. 

“And what would I have said, Sam?” He growled, “I know she looks like she’s been kept in a cage and beaten but please don’t arrest me, I promise it wasn’t me? Her social security number? Sorry, I don’t have it, we don’t even know her name. I did the best I could.” His anger tipped over into a resigned sadness. Bucky cupped your face in one hand and forced you to look up at him, “I did the best I could, baby, I really did.” 

You nodded and his grip loosened so you could nuzzle into his chest again, your own tears running down your cheeks at the memory of those early days. Bucky’s shaking hands patching up your burns and cuts, the whisky you’d slugged before he pulled out a stray bullet from your arm and stitched it with floss. Every touch had been gentle though, every time he’d changed your bandages or cleaned you up, it had been gentle. It had been everything he could give you. 

“We didn’t mean it like that, Buck,but we could help, get her checked over and then you can come back here.” Sam’s voice was plaintive, deliberately soothing and it made Bucky’s blood boil. 

“I’m not taking her to that place.” He bit back, there was no mistaking the way he curled you into his body, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around your back. 

It didn’t hurt anymore, to be touched, but then it’d never hurt to be touched by James. His hands had always been careful with you, his strength used only for protection and it was for that reason that you lay your trust in him completely. 

“Don’t make me go, Alpha.” You whispered, your lips brushing the base of his neck where you’d marked him, right over his scent gland, your teeth marks an eternal brand. You nuzzled into him, your chest rumbling again. 

“I won’t make you go,” he looked back at Steve and Sam, the finality of his decision sat heavily in the air. 

“Can we at least bring some medical things here? Would you let Sam check you out?” Steve offered, he was increasingly concerned by the way Bucky had retreated into the chair, his own legs now curled up on the overstuffed cushion.

Above you, James nodded once, “just you and Sam, don’t tell anyone else. I’ll know if you tell anyone else.” The panic edging Bucky’s voice had Steve raising his hands in surrender. 

“I promise, Buck, just Sam and I.”

Sam and Steve left the cabin at dusk while you and Bucky watched from the deck. As soon as they were beyond the trees he pulled you even tighter against his chest, his heat warm. 

“Everything is going to be okay, baby, I promise, no one’s going to ever, ever, hurt you again.” His hands slid down your arms and across the slow swell of your belly. “But we should consider their offer, make sure we’re making a choice that’s good for you and me, as well as them.” His palm pushed up under your shirt, splayed on your tight skin and, deep inside, your pup pushed back. 

[brucewaynehater101]

How the BruceQuest Went (paraphrased for humor)

Tim: "Bruce is alive."

Dick: "We've literally recovered his body with DNA proof."

Tim: "I have evidence."

Dick: "Yeah?"

Tim: *holds up a painting*

Dick: "..."

~~~

Tim: *minding his own business (and stealing a lot)*

Ra's: "Hey." *slides over resources*

Tim: "Didn't you just try to kill me?"

Ra's: "I knew they wouldn't succeed."

Tim: "..."

Tim: "Fair enough."

~~~

Tim: *gets stabbed*

Tim: "Bruce would have handled this so much better than me."

~~~

Tim: *wakes up and notices things are a little green*

White Ghost: "Hey."

Tim: "Did you McDip me?"

White Ghost: *considers quitting*

Tim: "Nah. Never mind."

~~~

Ra's: "Destroy the Spiders."

Tim: "No."

Ra's: *pulls out Tam*

Tim: "Fair enough."

~~~

Tim: *blows up Ra's bases*

Ra's: *surprise Pikachu face*

Tim: "Shouldn't have given me access to your systems."

Ra's: "Hmm... Alright."

Tim: *gets a bad feeling* "Now wait a minute..."

~~~

Tim: *perfectly plans out countering Ra's*

Ra's: *has a sword and a foot perfect for kicking people out of windows*

Tim: "Whelp... at least Bruce would be proud of me."

~~~

Dick: "How'd you know that I'd catch you from falling out a window even though I wasn't supposed to be over there and merely rushed over when I had a feeling?"

Tim: "I was for sure planning on your brotherly instincts. Good job."

[ekingston]

also on ao3.

Lena smiles to herself as she watches Kara zip through National City’s most exclusive luxury mall. She’s like a honey-drunk bumblebee, bouncing from aisle to aisle, descending on some random item every five seconds just to mutter hmm and dart off again.

Lena is moving at a more civilized pace. She has long since stopped trying to keep up, both with her best friend’s not-quite-incriminating measure of super speed and her unfathomable decision-making process.

“Lena help,” Kara pouts, suddenly back, familiar and warm at Lena’s side. “Do fifteen-year-olds like anything?”

Lena doesn’t take her eyes off the art books she’s been perusing, but she also doesn’t stop herself from leaning in, her shoulder resting briefly against Kara’s, their hips grazing. A friendly gesture. A welcome back. “You remember Ruby, right?” she teases. “Cute? Bright? Probably six feet tall by next Wednesday?”

Kara huffs. “Yes, but she's—you know. Cool now.” She makes a gesture that’s somewhere between jazz hands and a bomb exploding. “What do cool teenagers like?”

Lena sends her a self-deprecating smile. “Do consider who it is you’re asking.”

Kara’s gaze tumbles from Lena’s face to her chest to her hands, and then she nods. Lena feels like she should be insulted by Kara’s quick acquiescence, but all thought leaves her mind when Kara steps closer, reaching across Lena’s body to play with the head of a fat round brush. Lena watches the fine bristles spread wide around the pads of Kara’s ring and middle finger, and tells herself that she isn’t affected by the situation at all.

“You know,” she breezes, veering away from the wisp of Kara’s breath against her temple, “Ruby’s been sketching a lot more, lately.”

Kara, immediately revived, follows Lena over to a glass case marked with Holbein’s logo. But when she glances up at the price tags, she goes pale. “Seven hundred dollars?” she yelps. “For colored pencils?”

Lena hums. “They’re pastels,” she explains, flipping the case open with a pleasing wood-on-metal snick. “High-grade pigments, no fillers.” She runs her fingers down a length of cobalt blue, watching Kara’s throat bob when she reaches the gold lettering along its side. “I hear they lay down incredibly soft,” Lena hears herself say, her voice low in the narrow space left between them. “Rich and easy. Just a hint of pressure is enough to achieve whatever effect you desire.”

Kara looks up, her glossy pink lips now inches away from Lena’s own. “Since when do you know about art materials?” she rasps.

Lena breaks into a light sweat at the question. “Well, you know,” she stammers, straightening. “It’s. No secret that I’m a patron—” She gestures helplessly, trying to step away again but finding herself trapped between the display case and Kara’s body. “That I—I’ve always had a thing—”

Kara’s eyebrows twitch as she waits for Lena to finally finish a sentence, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth when Lena fails to do so. Her amusement at Lena’s floundering should embarrass her, but combined with the close heat of Kara’s body and her cocky smirk, Lena finds it alarmingly arousing.

“I have literally never heard you talk about art before,” Kara smarms. “Oh wait! Actually I specifically remember you canceling on Bruce Wayne’s charity gala when you realized he was having it at the Museum of Modern Arts, two years ago.”

“Kara—” She’s still so close. Lena is beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“You were already in Gotham,” Kara points out.

“Listen,” Lena flusters. “I am a well-rounded—”

Kara’s eyes are dark and sparkling. “You were his date.”

“...I was his friend,” Lena corrects. “Bruce and I were never—not like—” She gestures between Kara’s body and her own, the movement greatly inhibited by their closeness, and ceasing entirely when she realizes where her argument is headed.

Kara bites down on what Lena is sure would otherwise be a maddeningly self-satisfied grin. “My birthday’s coming up, too,” Kara says. And then, her voice gentle, “But you already knew that, didn't you?”

Lena huffs out a breath. Of course she knows that. Kara is her best friend. It’s completely natural that Lena would spend night after sleepless night poring over catalogues and browsing the dark web, trying to find her the perfect gift.

“You got me these?” Kara grins, picking up a viridian green pencil and twirling it between two of her fingers. She looks so pretty and pleased that Lena nods, instantly resolved to trash the one-of-a-kind mini-anti-life-equation she’d managed to place the winning bid on, and gift Kara Holbein’s entire collection, as originally intended.

Kara still hasn’t moved. “Lena,” she says. “You know you didn’t need to spend all that money on me.”

Lena huffs out a humorless laugh. If Kara thinks the pencils are pricey, ditching the anti-life-equation is definitely the right call. It’s a shame—apparently it’s super effective against fruit flies and fungus gnats, both of which Kara has been unsuccessfully battling in her kitchen for the past couple of months. “You know me,” Lena says, something bitter twisting at the corners of her mouth. “Always going overboard.”

“No,” Kara tells her. The surety of her tone draws Lena’s gaze back up to those ludicrously blue eyes. “I do know you,” Kara says. “And you always get it exactly right.”

The silence that ensues stretches taut between them, stretches thin, fraying Lena’s nerves along with it. She should get Kara some canvases too, Lena decides. In fact, why not make it a set? Add some new brushes, and oil paints, maybe a new easel—oh!

“Mechanical erasers,” she blurts, and darts away.

Kara isn’t quite as quick on the uptake this time, taking long seconds to rejoin her on the other side of the aisle.

“Not like what?” Kara asks.

Lena blinks at her, puzzled by the non-sequitur. Kara’s eyebrows twitch together again, but this time they stay there, a tiny divot in the skin between them. Lena doesn’t know what to do with—well, any of it, quite frankly. “Since the secret’s out,” she says, pointedly looking away from the curious expression on her best friend’s face and gesturing at the collection of erasers, “do you prefer the—”

The feeling of Kara’s hand at her waist is highly unlikely and profoundly baffling. But when Lena looks down, trailing off, there it is; Kara’s thumb, settling against Lena's hip bone, her fingers sliding—sure and steady—into the gap of Lena’s open coat.

“You said you and Bruce were not like you and me,” Kara says. “What are we like?”

Lena’s heart is slamming in her chest like Kara is playing tennis with it. She’s so frustrated that Kara won’t just let it slide and allow Lena to escape with her pride intact; she’s so enamored with the way Kara looks at her, open and curious, as if she honestly doesn’t know what Lena is trying her best not to say for fear it will ruin their friendship.

The situation is so impossible that Lena doesn’t register the movement of Kara’s other hand until she’s slipped it around the back of her neck. It rests there—joining the other in its exploration of formerly firmly out-of-the-way places—with just the barest hint of pressure, her fingertips settling warm against the vulnerable skin of Lena’s nape.

Lena flusters, suddenly forced to address Kara’s question in a far more certain shade than she’s allowed them both to get away with over the years. If Lena opts for “the kind of friends I thought I’d never have”—a bitter, but familiar favorite—will Kara still help her blend the outline between the soft tones of their friendship and the vivid hues of what Lena is pretty certain is their mutual desire?

She swallows, watching the quick flash of Kara’s tongue as she wets her lip, reveling in the sight of it up close, struggling to maintain her solid form beneath the feeling of Kara’s hands on her body.

“There’s…” Kara whispers, swaying closer, “...probably a couple of things we really should talk about.” Her nose brushes Lena’s cheek before resting there, her eyes falling closed, their foreheads just barely touching. “But do you think it would be okay if—just for now—” She’s muttering the words almost directly into Lena’s mouth. “If I kissed you, first? Before, I mean, the rest of—”

Lena tugs herself up by the lapels of Kara’s jacket before Kara even finishes her question, the darkness behind her closed eyelids sparking into bright technicolor at the soft press of Kara’s lips against her own. They’re warm, and yielding, and slightly sticky—probably from the fresh-baked cinnamon roll she’d scarfed down before entering the store. Just before they pull apart, Lena catches the slightest hint of sweetness with the tip of her tongue.

Lena hums.

Kara is right. They really should be talking about this, and not necking in the middle of Eulalia Literature & Arts like a couple of boarding school kids on a school trip. But Kara is looking at her as if Lena is a wonderful secret freshly revealed, so Lena really can’t be expected to keep herself from being pulled back into Kara’s orbit. Can’t be blamed, even, for doing it lips-parted, so eager for another taste of what feels like the one bright spark of undiluted joy she’s ever felt she actually deserved that she shamelessly licks into Kara’s mouth, her entire body lighting up in oversaturated iridescence when Kara meets her with similarly unselfconscious sincerity.

Kara doesn’t let her go, even when they pause for air, both of her hands twitching against Lena’s body, as if keeping herself from pulling Lena back in is a tremendous effort. “Can we just stay here for a minute?” she hushes, her breath mingling with Lena’s own.

Lena smiles. “I think the security guard may have a couple of things to say about that,” she tells Kara, flashing an embarrassed glance over her shoulder at the woman in question.

“Oh, shoot.” Kara flinches, flushing an irresistible shade of pink Lena doubts even Holbein’s pigments could emulate. She rarely wears her glasses anymore, but Lena watches her reach for them out of habit, her movements jittery and raw.

“It’s alright, darling,” Lena soothes her, thrilling privately at the endearment as it falls off her lips. “I’m sure all will be forgiven when the cashier runs my credit card.”

And she’s right; when they exit, the guard gives them a nod that may even signal some mild approval. Whether that’s about the fortune Lena just spent on art supplies or their impromptu public exhibit, Lena isn’t sure.

Later, after weeks of conversations, after numerous tiny discoveries and world-shattering revelations—one of which has Kara confessing to once helping a fifth-dimensional imp create a half-dozen miserable alternate realities in which the full, vibrant spectrum of their love for each other went unacknowledged, and never led to a kiss—Kara blows out thirty-one colorful candles, and unwraps first (in the company of all of their friends) her gifts; and then (in the company of only her lover) Lena’s wrap-around A-line dress.

Lena’s legs are already trembling when Kara finally glides her fingers to the seam of her thigh, the pad of her thumb nudging gently at the patch of darkening cotton between Lena’s legs. “Could I try something new?” she asks, and Lena, who has discovered that Kara’s ideas only ever fall into one of two categories, one being complete absurdity and the other unmitigated brilliance, sighs.

“I want to paint you,” Kara says.

It so figures, Lena thinks. All of these new toys, and Kara can't decide which one she wants to play with first.

“Okay,” Lena says, driven to impatient acquiescence by Kara’s thumb, now moving in gentle, tiny circles against her.

“Okay?” Kara confirms, hand stilling, sitting up.

Lena clasps Kara’s teasing fingers and presses them down hard where she needs them, her back arching into the touch of their joined hands. “After,” she demands.

This was written for the multi fandom (and original!) flash fiction challenge, using the prompts ‘vignette/slice of life’, ‘shopping for a gift’, ‘friends to lovers’ and ‘colored pencils’. You should give it a whirl!

[hypewinter]

The boy had fallen out of the sky. To be more exact, he had fallen out of a portal that had opened in the sky. He then proceeded to land face first next to Batman. As he looked up to see everyone gathering around him, he tried to speak. It was a weird cacophonous sound, a garble that was a mix between static and echoes. Everyone covered their eyes and Nightwing yelled out, "We can't understand you!"

Just like that the cacophony stopped. Everyone uncovered their ears as the boy whispered, "Sorry."

Now that he was sitting up, they were able to get a good look at him. The boy from had Lazarus green eyes and starch white hair that did not obey gravity. His body also has an ethereal glow to it. Everything was a blur after that. They ended up bringing the boy back to the cave when they noticed he was bleeding profusely. Batman wanted to bring him to a hospital instead but he got so panicked when that idea was mentioned and looked like he was about to bolt, so the cave it was.

The boy had barely maintained consciousness as he babbled on about getting away from someone and hoping they would let him stay for a few days to recover. As he rambled, Alfred began peeling back his styled hazmat suit to reveal everyone a sickening Y shaped scar running down his torso which oozed a distinct green color. Alfred had patched him up as quickly and steadily as possible, being guided through how to do it from the boy himself. Apparently whatever his physiology was, it didn't work like a human's. Soon after he was patched up, the boy (Danny as they found out) lost consciousness.

The boy in front of them completely changed after white rings had formed around him. His white hair was now raven black, his skin had taken on a healthy tan, his stylized suit had become a T-shirt and jeans, his blood turned red. By all accounts, this was not the same unknown they had just saved. Unless?

"Do you think he's similar to the Martians?" Tim asked.

Everyone turned to him, their gears already turning. Nevertheless, Batman spoke. "Explain," he said.

"Well you know, how they can change themselves to blend in. And he was talking about hiding from someone. What if he, I don't know, decided to just try to blend in with us."

Dick piped up next. "I mean, considering how many of us are running around, it wouldn't be hard. And look at his face. It's the perfect mix of all of us. He probably decided the best way to fit in would be to look a little bit like all of us. It'd be the best way to throw off his pursuer."

"Or pursuers," Jason cut in.

"And how can we be sure he stopped at just faces?" Damian inquired.

Now everyone was looking at him.

The former assassin puffed out his chest but it was clear from the slight rigidness of his stance that he didn't like everyone's attention on him.

"Tch. I am simply stating that if he truly wanted to blend in with us, he might as well copy our mannerisms as well. He has already copied our speech."

That was true. He had easily switched his speech once Dick had started talking. Of course they couldn't rule out the potential that he had simply known the language beforehand but considering how many aliens Earth got that could instantly adopt a new language, the former theory held more ground.

"Hmm. That may be true. Naturally we'll do our best to hide him from any pursuers. But-"

"Don't you mean you'll do your best to convince him to let you adopt him?" Steph interrupted with a cheeky grin.

"But," Bruce continued on, "we will need to make sure he doesn't imprint on us too much. We'll encourage him to be his own person and try out things that he enjoys so that when all of this is over, he can live independently of us. That being said, I want you all on your best behavior. We want to try to ingrain as many healthy behaviors into him as possible. That means no threats, no violence, no unhealthy sleeping habits, and no extreme intakes of coffee. And I clear?"

There were various mumbles and groans throughout the group and one particularly indignant squawk from Tim. "I said am I clear?" Bruce repeat. The group answered yes in unison. "Good. Then dismissed."

Everyone filed out of the cave one by one. Some went back to their own home and safehouses. Some hit the showers. And some headed straight upstairs. Finally there was only Bruce left. He looked down at Danny still sound asleep on the table. Making sure this boy was protected and cared for for while also making sure he didn't get too attached and therefore dependent on everyone was better said than done. Still, Bruce would make it happen, after all, he was Batman.

I got this idea from the lovely @damngirlidk . Truly a great idea.

[2tcs]

Day 5: Family Grudge and Prize

Bruce has noticed something about Damian. Whenever a specific shadow appears in the city, Damian immediately attacks them. And anytime someone else approached, the shadow would flee.

Last night was one such incident.

~~~~The Previous Night~~~~

“So we meet again traitor.” Damian said launching himself at another young boy.

“Ha! Do you really think that you can win?” The young man laughed.

“Tt. I do not think I can. I know I can. It is you who are blinded by their arrogance.” Damian growled as he threw several batarangs at his opponent.

“Then why did you bring your dear old dad?” The mystery boy said before backflipping off the building and disappearing as Bruce landed on the roof.

“Robin report.”

“Tt. It is my own business father. Please stay out of it.” Damian said before quickly grappling away and heading back to the cave.

~~~~Present Time~~~~

“You have been staring at that picture for quite some time Master Bruce. Might I inquire as to why?” Alfred asked as he walked up to Bruce with a mug.

“I just can’t figure out why Damian keeps going after this one person. Even when he was trying to kill Tim he wasn’t this in sight with him. But with this boy?” Bruse sighed as he took a sip of his tea. “Camamil Alfred?”

“I find it quite relaxing and the perfect beverage before bed. Somewhere I believe you should be heading sir?” Alfred commented with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile.

“Hmm, and I don’t suppose this one is free of any sedatives is it Alfred?”

“I promise you that I have no clue what you are talking about.”

“Alright, alright. I’m heading upstairs.” Bruce chuckled as he headed upstairs with Alfred.

~~~~

The next day Bruce woke up for Sunday brunch with his family. It was one of the few days that everyone was at the manor. As Bruce began to wake up he also began to notice how quiet it was at the table. Unnaturally quiet. Looking around he noticed all his kids glaring at him, except for Damian who was glaring at a boy around fifteen years of age sitting across from him.

“So,” Bruce cleared his throat only for everyone to start shouting over each other.

“Why the FUCK did you adopt another kid old man!” Jason's shout rang out above everyone else's causing the room to go quiet again.

“Father did not adopt this traitor. He is only here to cause pain and discord.” Damian growled. Only holding himself back from attacking the stranger because of Alfred's rule about violence in the manor.

“Oh shove off Dams. He’s my father too. I have every right to meet him.” The stranger said.

“No! You lost the right to be considered family after what you did. It’s the reason why grandfather had you killed and it was only because of mother’s soft heart that you were resurrected and sent to be adopted by some stupid civilians.” Damian shouted while stabbing his spoon into his parfait.

“Wait! Hold on and tell me, calmly, what is going on.” Bruce said while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“This traitor”

“Not a traitor”

“This Traitor. Is Danyal Al Ghul. We unfortunately shared mother's womb.” Damian said as he continued to glower at the boy, Danyal.

“I go by Danny now.” Danny said with a wave.

“Hello, Danny. If I ask you why it is that Damian called you a traitor, would you answer?” Bruce asked with a strained smile.

“It’s so stupid.” Danny groaned.

“It is far from ‘stupid’ Danyal.”

“I didn’t mean to break your favorite wakizashi!”

“Liar. You were jealous that I was grandfather's favorite so you sought to punish me for my superiority.”

“Grandfather is a fruitloop! A certified wackjob! Even when we were kids I could tell that! You’ve lived with father for years now. Surely you can see grandfather’s flaws with this new perspective. If not then congratulations. You are the grand champion of delusion. Here’s your prize.” Danny said with a glair of his own directed at Damian.

“Wait. Hold on. Are you the twerp that the demon brat attacked the other night?” Jason asked with a grin.

“He does match the build.” Tim muttered.

“Secret brother.” Cass whispered while giving Danny a thumbs up.

“Ha! Not a secret anymore. But I didn’t come here just to meet ya’ll.” Danny laughed before turning serious. “I know about Alfred's rule about batwork at the table but I have things to do and can’t stay long. When you return to the batcave you will find a folder with a printed copy of a rather concerning law and a flash drive with a list of facilities and experiments conducted with full government sanctions due to this law being in place.” Danny described before placing the last bite in his mouth and standing up. “Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of eating your delicious cooking Alfred. But unfortunately, I have to go. If you need to contact me, my number’s in the folder.” He said before simply vanishing with a final wave.

“Where did he go!” Dick shouted as he jumped up.

“Holy crap. And I thought it was creepy how Damian could do that in the shadows.” Steph said with a shiver.

“Uh, Damian? Can you do that too? If so, then thank you so much for not using that ability for evil.” Duke chuckled nervously.

“Tt” Getting up Damian stormed out of the room. He didn’t care what Danyal did or said as long as he didn’t come back. Now he just had to get to the cave before anyone else to get rid of Danyal’s contact information.

[wonderjanga]

Billy and Bars

Now, as you probably know, most of the time Billy is ages 8 to maybe 15 (that’s what I’ve seen anyways) and of course, his Captain Marvel form looks like an adult. So, it wouldn’t be strange for an adult to ask another adult to go to a bar with them. Which is why Billy is caught in a dilemma. On one hand, he could just say no, but after a long mission where they’d all spent like two days on an alien planet under constant heavy fire from a cute and cuddly, yet surprisingly bloodthirsty race? It’d be weird not to accept. They might suspect him for being a kid! And boy, Billy does not want that. But on the other hand, he’s not of legal drinking age.

He ends up going with them anyways. Now, all the heroes are sat at a dingy bar in Central City, out of costume, of course. Though, some of them cough Bruce cough Diana cough Arthur cough and you can’t forget Billy, still in Marvel form. (He took a page out of Supe’s book and wore glasses. He’s also for some reason wearing Hawaiian print. (He didn’t have actual adult clothes and needed to borrow from a bargain bin))

Billy thankfully found a loophole for this whole mess. That’s right, this guys gonna be sipping virgin margaritas for the rest of the night. And, he try as many flavors as he wants because you wanna know the best part? Bruce is paying for everything! If Billy could jump in joy, he would. It didn’t matter that Hal was a little obnoxious when drunk off his mind. He’s dealt with worse and it’s not like it’s all that bad. He’s kinda funnier than usual this way. He gets the spend the rest of the day with people he considers friends, that’s all that really matters.

GL: “Dude, why do you keep ordering virgins?”

Crap. What does Billy say to that? Right off the bat, Billy ignores Solomon’s first, and quite frankly, wild lie to tell.

Marvel: “Hmm? Oh uh… I… like the way they taste…?”

He’s a bad liar.

Aquaman: *drinking beer* “Try again, bud.”

Okay… It looks like he might have to listen to Solomon after all. Gosh dang it.

Marvel: “Uhm… I kinda used to maybe sort of might’ve had an addiction and had to go to AA a long time ago.” *Sips drink*

He was always better at lying when the lie was already prepared.

*Whole table goes silent*

Marvel: “Uh… I’ve been sober for a while. Like…” ‘Twelve years, Billy,’ Solomon supplied in his head. “…Twelve years.”

*Table is still silent.*

Flash: *Interrupts silence by slamming hands on table* “Dude! You cannot keep dropping Marvel Lore Bombs™️ on us like this!” (Btw this is the same universe as the Marvel Compilations post. I didn’t mean to write it like it was the same universe but I might as well connect them cause why not)

Marvel: “Whaddya mean?”

Superman: “Well, Marvel…” *scratches back of head* “You kinda have this tendency to… Gosh, how do I put this?”

Martian Manhunter: “You drop obscure information about yourself at random times.”

Wonder Woman: “Then you just go about your day like you didn’t say it in the first place. For example Cap, you can’t just tell me that at some point you were an Amazonian, you were there for my birth, and then just walk off.”

GL: “Marvel, how old are you?”

Marvel: “Uuuuuuhhhhhhh….”

Batman: “You date back to having existed before Mesopotamia. I want to know the answer to that question Marvel.” *Bat-glares Billy while sipping from his drink.*

Bruce was definitely going to add the AA thing to his quite small folder on Marvel.

The night continues on with the other members of the JL grilling Billy for more information about himself, which Solomon helps with by either supplying him with lies, or with things previous champions did. By the time the night was over, Billy never wanted to go to a bar again. He unshazamed in an alley and went home to his little place. He bee-lined to his sleeping bag and just when he was about to fall asleep, something popped into his mind:

‘Why didn’t I just say I didn’t like the way it tastes?’ That thought kept him up for a couple more hours.

[frownyalfred]

I like that kryptonian pregnancies are obviously different from normal ones, but my unserious side wants to take it too far.

Like Bruce's stomach should start shooting lasers when Joker gets too close.

There are definitely some aspects of half-Kryptonian pregnancies we haven't seen yet, but sadly lasers is not one of them. That would have been so cool. Especially if you consider whether the pups can sense the proximity of a non-mate non-pack alpha. Like, hmm, that's not dad, we're shooting lasers now!!

[demonic0angel]

Because of that Part 2 of Danny being trapped in an mp3:

Can you imagine Batman walking in on Danny crying in the corner of the room, in an abandoned building and comes to know why Danny is here?

When he finally gets theere a d manages to help Danny calm down, the kid starts exclaiming what happened, and while Batman would like to first trace back to how in the hell that mp3 player made it from Amity to Gotham, he has to help the kid find his family again first.

Except his city, the city he loves and has come to see it's Guardian Spirit as a sibling, refuses to let him go. In fact, whenever Batman starts trying to release Danny so he can go home, all it does is hurt Danny worse and worse!

Cue the Bats contacting every magician they can both count on and stand being close to, because even Batman's children dont immediately go to "oh hey, let's just adopt the kid" and instead try to help him first.

Would Bruce be disappointed that Gotham is being possessive of a kid that isn't theirs? That they're seemingly trying to force any of the Bats to adopt him, when that's not what the kids wants or needs?

Would Jason be heartbroken that the Spirit of Gotham was knowingly hurting a child just for their amusement?

Meanwhile, Danny just wants to go home, and be far away from this city. And he wants to know if there's there something like a ghostly restraining order he can file against Gotham?

Like, he was maybe considering moving here in the future, after he graduates, but now? Now, because of this, he's NEVER setting foot in Gotham ever again.

Part 1, Part 2

Hmm, there are a couple of discrepancies within this ask lmao.

In previous parts of this ask, it's stated that Danny is 17 and that Gotham is actively hiding him away from everyone, meaning that Danny is either the same age as or older than Tim when Jason beat the shit out of him 💀 and that Batman wouldn't be able to find him.

I also think if the Batfam were to ever meet mp3!Danny, he wouldn't ask for help or tell them what's going on.

In this idea, I imagine that Gotham is DESPERATE for help since she already lost some of her heroes several times and she doesn't want it to happen again. She keeps Danny in the city so he can help her against the curses and murders there. Danny is in a panic bc he's separated from family and he HATES the idea of being away from his haunt, but in the end, he and Gotham will work together to keep the city and its heroes safe until Gotham is satisfied.

I imagine that later, they make a more formal deal and Gotham agrees to only keep him there for a year. In the meantime, Danny helps around the city (and eventually gets discovered as Bruce notices strange things happening).

I think Danny and Gotham would have a mutually beneficial relationship where they make a deal and they both dislike the situation, but make the most out of it and then grow to like each other. Danny may hate the situation at first, but I think he'd understand Gotham's desperation. She doesn't want to hurt him (she comforts him in part 2, but still won't let him go), but she needs him a lot and he gets that. He did just witness a murder on the first night too, which kinda proves Gotham's point ab how much she needs help.

[alilobsessive]

Bruce and Jon are divorced parents who shit talk the other parent to their kid(s) and other family members.

Riddler is fighting for the right of best /favorite uncle or godfather.

Bruce seems like the type of dad to bribe his feral(non-hero/villian in Reader's case and/or anti-hero in Jason's case) children to acknowledge his existence through money or things he thinks they liked when they were alive/ living with him. And if they don't Gotham gets a pouty 6 'something Batman.(Gothamites are one step away from asking Crow to speak to Batman just so he can stop pouting/ glaring at everyone like their the reason his kid(s)won't acknowledge him).

For the question of whether or not Crow moved out/ still lived in the Manor when Damian was there. What if you did Crow was in college when Damian 1st arrived at the manor and only visited for the holidays/ when they thought no one not even Alfred was there meaning Reader and Damian never personally knew each other even though Reader's aware of Damian's existence/ him living with Bruce. ( I image Reader having connections that spand all throughout the globe even within the League of Assassins)/ shadows and Justice League. Bruce would be seething if he knew his most deadly archenemy Deathstroke or Ra's was speaking to his child or someone like Hal or Oliver that he can't stand is his kid's go to JL member).

Another thing about Reader's past prior to moving in with the batfam was their mother killed? Gave them up for adoption/ placed them in the system? Or something or did they live somewhere else( like another state/city) before moving in with the Batfam. (Are they older , younger, or the same age as Tim cause you said they were living with Bruce prior to Jason's death and were training to be Robin? I ask because I keep imaging someone around Duke's age so a year or 2 younger than Tim)

Reader seems like the type to have multiple disguises tied to each of the villians that they like like Middle/Name Quinn, Mother's maiden name Kyle, Nickname Dent, etc.

Sorry for the long reply/ask I ramble when I'm excited or find something interesting.

When I first read that I thought you were giving me Bruce/Jon divorced addition and got slapped with “hu I never thought about that before, let me think about it for a second. Hmm I guess? That sounds fun!”

Riddler already has that right, Superman who?

God that must be terrifying, poor Gothamites. First they had to deal with a grieving Batman after Jason’s death. Now they have to deal with a bat who just lost custody of one of his kids.

Reader is already out performing there mentor with building underground connections. Damien probably also knows about reader but is also aware of the neglect they faced. So he doesn’t worry about them to much, what he does worry about is getting the same treatment they did. It’s making his already desperate attempts to prove himself and solidify his place in the house worse.

Honestly I’m still not to sure on the timeline myself? They definitely lived with Bruce long enough for them to consider it there whole life. But there exact age I’m not to clear on, there an adult so at least 18. I’m thinking they came around the same time Dick appeared, we’re old enough to train with Jason as he acted as Robin and maybe trained earlier then that, around the same time Dick was about to stop being Robin. So I guess that would make them younger than Tim if not the same age as him. But the rest of there backstory, I haven’t the faintest idea.

Reader went from being neglected there whole life to suddenly collecting family members like their Pokémon cards.

Don’t worry bro! I love these, every time we or the others? I’m honestly not to sure if the anon I’m talking to about this are the same person or not. I’m using it’s one or two people but you can never fully know unless they say so. Anyways every time we have like quick successions of answers and it suddenly stops I get a little sad because of how much fun I’m having talking about this with you all! of course it’s only happened like twice but still! I love brainstorming with you guys! It’s fun!

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

hii i wanna ask if its possible you make a part 2 on behind the mask? like for example maybe how they relationship is going on or when bruce finds out??

Behind the Mask - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Part 2/2

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Scarecrow x Batgirl!Reader

(Part 1)

Word Count: 8682

Warnings: fear toxin, Scarecrow x Batgirl

Summary: Imma cut to the chase (Requested) Their relationship is well, but Crane wants to be more open

A/N: Holy shit, did this take a while, my bad guys!! I had no intentions to write a part two, as I had nothing else to add to this fic, but I had many requests for a part two so...here we are, lol I don't know how good this part is but it exists now, lol Thank you so much for the people that liked this fic, I hope this wraps it up for yous, if not...my bad let's go! 💚

-

The rhythmic tapping on Y/n's window had become a nightly occurrence for Y/n. She turned towards the source of the sound, her heart fluttering as she caught sight of Craw and Jonathan perched on the fire escape in front of her window.

Y/n hurried to unlatch the window, "You really ought to it open," Jonathan suggested, his voice carrying a playful edge as he flashed her a smirk.

Y/n chuckled softly, her eyes dancing with amusement. "And you really ought to use the door. This fire escape is shitty and old, it’s gonna break nay day now," she quipped back, her tone laced with affection as she pulled Jonathan inside with a tug.

Jonathan's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But it adds to the aesthetic," he countered.

Y/n couldn't suppress a fond roll of her eyes as she removed Jonathan's mask, her fingers lingering on his cheek for a moment before she leaned in to capture his lips in a stolen kiss.

The moment stretched and Jonathan lips curved into a smile. As they parted, Y/n's gaze softened, her heart skipping a beat as she watched Jonathan's smile linger.

Pulling away, Y/n made her way to her desk, her movements graceful and deliberate as she grabbed a bag of seeds she had stashed away. Sprinkling them onto the surface, she watched with delight as Craw flew from Jonathan's shoulder, his wings fluttering with excitement.

Settling onto her bed, Jonathan followed suit. Laying back on the bed, Jonathan shifted his gaze to Y/n. "So, when do you plan on letting your high-flying friend know about us?" he asked.

Y/n's eyes widened in alarm, her head snapping towards him with a swift motion. "You wanna die?" she retorted.

A chuckle escaped Jonathan's lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, so you're resorting to threats now?" he teased, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Y/n couldn't help but shove his arm in response, her touch carrying a playful edge. "You know what I mean," she countered, her tone softening with affection as she met his gaze

"Better you tell him than him finding out," Jonathan said.

Y/n's expression grew tense, her worry palpable. "Yes, but telling him means exposing you to potential danger. Who knows what he might do?" she fretted, her voice filled with concern.

Jonathan's confidence remained unwavering. "As you’ve mentioned before. It would be hypocritical for him to act out," he reasoned.

Y/n shook her head. "But we're dealing with two vastly different scenarios here. Catwoman is a petty thief, and that’s very different from your... eccentricities. You're a werido doctor, doing experiments with questionable drugs that induce terrifying hallucinations and, sometimes, even casualties," she countered, her words laden with unease.

Jonathan turned his gaze to the ceiling, deep in thought. "Hmm," he mused softly.

Y/n sighed, shifting her focus upward as well. "Besides," she continued, "it could complicate things even more, considering you don’t know his identity."

"And I’m guessing you prefer it that way," Jonathan replied.

Y/n gave him a playful pout, but before she could respond, her phone rang, cutting through the tension. With a reluctant groan, she pushed herself up and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. Seeing Bruce's name on the screen, she took a deep breath and answered. 

"Hey, Bruce! What's up?" she greeted, her tone deliberately light and casual to indicate that now wasn’t the best time for a serious conversation.

"Just calling to check on you," Bruce replied, his voice calm and understanding.

"I'm good, thanks. I just have someone over right now," Y/n said, glancing at Jonathan, who was watching her intently.

"Oh, is it who I think it is?" Bruce asked, a hint of teasing in his tone.

Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Yes, it is," she admitted.

"When do I get to meet this mysterious person?" Bruce asked, the question laden with unintentional irony.

The complexity of the situation weighed on Y/n as she considered her response. "Not sure," she replied, her voice careful and measured.

"I hope you won’t keep me waiting too long," Bruce said, his tone both playful and serious.

Y/n sighed inwardly, recognizing the tangled web of secrets and identities she was caught in. "I'll see what I can do," she replied, striving to keep the conversation light despite the underlying tension.

As she ended the call, Y/n looked back at Jonathan, who raised an eyebrow inquisitively. She could sense the unspoken questions between them, the delicate balance they maintained teetering on the edge of discovery and secrecy.

As Y/n put down her phone, she could feel Jonathan's eyes on her, a mixture of curiosity and concern etched across his features. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the inevitable questions.

"So, that was Bruce Wayne?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah," Y/n admitted, sinking back onto the bed beside him. "He just wanted to check in."

Jonathan smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. "And he wants to meet me, does he?"

Y/n sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know it's not that simple. He’s... protective, and if he found out about your... nightly activities, it could get messy."

Jonathan chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Messy, indeed. But you've got to admit, there's a certain thrill in walking such a fine line. Besides, he wouldn’t be as bad as your other friend."

Y/n frowned, her worry deepening. "This isn't a game, Jonathan. Bruce isn’t someone you want as an enemy. He’s...persistent. And don’t get me started on Batman"

Jonathan reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You just want to keep me safe…you’re not embarrassed of me."

Y/n was well aware of these underlying insecurities of Jonathan’s, they were hard to miss. And keeping him as a locked up secret didn’t help. 

She nodded, the weight of her dual life pressing down on her shoulders. "Exactly. I don’t you getting hurt."

Jonathan's expression softened slightly, a rare vulnerability peeking through. "I’ll be careful, Y/n. For you."

She met his gaze, searching for sincerity in his dark eyes. "I hope so. Because if Bruce ever found out who you really are... I'm not sure what he’d do."

Jonathan leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead. "Then we’ll just have to make sure he never does."

Y/n closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, her mind swirling with worry and affection. She knew the road ahead was fraught with danger and deceit, but for now, in this moment, she found solace in Jonathan’s presence.

Breaking the silence, she murmured, "We need to be smart about this. No more unnecessary risks."

Jonathan nodded, his voice a low whisper. "Aside from my obvious alter ego issues, what about me would put him off so much?" he asked curiously.

"Well, for starters, you're technically my superior at work, which complicates things," Y/n began. "And let's not forget, you're literally his age, which doesn't exactly help our case. So, we’re already off to a rocky start."

Jonathan sighed, acknowledging her points. "Yes, you make a fair point," he conceded.

"Will you stay the night?" Y/n asked, her voice soft and hopeful.

Jonathan considered her for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. "I don't see why not," he replied, his tone warm and reassuring.

Y/n felt a wave of relief wash over her as Jonathan settled more comfortably on the bed beside her. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery glow over the room. She reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of his face, memorizing every detail.

"You know," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "despite everything, I do feel safe with you."

Jonathan's expression softened, and he took her hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm. "And I with you," he murmured. 

They lay there in silence for a while, wrapped in each other's presence, the world outside their little bubble momentarily forgotten. The unspoken promise of mutual protection and understanding hung in the air, a fragile but resilient bond between them.

-

Waking up was easier than usual, especially with the enticing aroma of breakfast wafting through the air. Y/n stretched and climbed out of bed. Craw was perched on the desk, still asleep. Below the bird lay Jonathan's mask, resting limply on the surface. Y/n followed the delicious scent to the kitchen and there, she found Jonathan at the stove, and she felt a surge of gratitude that he hadn't left as she had half-expected.

"Morning," Y/n greeted, a smile spreading across her face.

"Good morning," Jonathan replied, turning to plate some food for the two of them.

He set the two plates on the small dining table, and they both took a seat. "Thank you," Y/n said softly, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

As they began to eat, Craw flew in from her room, landing on the table in front of them. Y/n broke off a piece of her breakfast and offered it to Craw, who eagerly accepted the treat.

"You don't have work?" Y/n asked between bites.

"I do, but I have some time," Jonathan responded, a small smile playing on his lips.

They ate in comfortable silence, the morning light filtering through the windows casting a warm glow over the scene. 

"You know," she said, her tone playful, "you’re going to spoil me if you keep making breakfast like this."

Jonathan chuckled, stacking the plates. "Then I guess I'll have to make it a habit."

Finishing her last bite, Y/n leaned back in her chair, her eyes studying Jonathan. "I could get used to this," she admitted softly.

Jonathan looked up from his plate, his gaze meeting hers with a tenderness that was rare for him. "So could I," he replied.

Y/n squeezed his hand, feeling a swell of emotion.

Jonathan looked at his watch. "I should probably get ready for work."

Reluctantly, Y/n released his hand, watching as he stood up and began clearing the table. As he carried the dishes to the sink, Y/n stood and followed him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

They stood like that for a moment, savoring the closeness before Jonathan gently turned in her embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Y/n giggled and released him from her hold, “I’ll do the dishes.” she siad.  

Jonathan walked off to her bedroom. As Y/n cleaned the dishes, she heard his voice call out. "Do you know where my mask is?"

"It should be on the desk. I saw it before," Y/n replied, rinsing a plate.

"Craw must have moved it," Jonathan said, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Do you really need it today?" Y/n asked, pausing her task.

The question, though simple, carried significant weight. She didn’t want him to wear his Scarecrow mask, knowing it would mean he was engaging in dangerous activities that could put him at risk with Batman.

Jonathan appeared in the doorway, contemplating her words. "I suppose not," he said, moving toward her with a softened expression. "I'll see you tonight?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

"Of course," Y/n replied, looking up at him with a reassuring smile.

With a final kiss, Jonathan headed towards the door, grabbing his coat. "Stay safe," he said, a note of concern in his voice.

"You too," Y/n responded, watching as he left, the door clicking softly behind him.

Once he was gone, Y/n turned her attention back to Craw, who was still perched on the table. "You not following him?" she asked, offering the bird another morsel of food.

Craw pecked at the treat, his feathers ruffling contentedly. “Guess you’re with me then.” Y/n couldn't help but smile. 

After finishing the dishes, Y/n dried her hands and made her way to the bedroom, her thoughts already shifting to the upcoming visit to the Batcave.Bruce had called her last night, and she assumed he'd want to see her today. She knew she needed to be prepared for whatever Bruce had in store for her. He was always easy on her, but sometimes, he was a lot to deal with.

Entering the bedroom, she moved to her closet and grabbed clothes to change into. She laid them out on the bed and then headed to the bathroom. 

-

It was easy enough to get to Wayne Manor, where she was greeted at the door by Alfred. “Good morning, Miss L/n,” Alfred said with a warm smile.

“Morning, Alfred,” Y/n replied, returning his smile as she stepped into the grand foyer.

“Is Bruce home?” Y/n asked.

“He left just over an hour ago. He should be back soon. I’m sure he was expecting you. Would you like something to drink while you wait?” Alfred offered.

“That would be nice, thank you. Does Bruce have any fizzy drinks, or does he only stock protein shakes and expensive booze?” Y/n joked.

“Master Wayne does have a rather... focused selection, but I assure you, Miss L/n, we do keep a few civilised options for guests. Perhaps a sparkling water with a twist of lemon?”

Y/n chuckled softly. "Sounds good to me. I'll be down in the Batcave," she said.

Making her way down through the hidden bookshelf entrance, Y/n wasn’t too sure what she was gonna do. There were no immediate threats she was aware of, and Bruce hadn’t assigned her any specific research tasks, so she decided to indulge in a bit of fun.

She settled into the chair at the Batcomputer and typed in "Scarecrow," smirking as she did. She wanted to see what Bruce had on him and if there were any scandals she could teasingly bring up to Jonathan tonight.

As large images of Scarecrow filled the screen, Y/n smiled, engrossed in the data. She barely noticed Alfred entering the cave.

“With that smile on your face, I would have assumed you were looking at your boyfriend,” Alfred’s witty remark echoed through the cavernous space.

“Oh, but we would make such a cute couple,” Y/n joked back, grinning at Alfred.

"From what I’ve heard from Master Wayne, I’m surprised you’re not already,” Alfred said, setting down a tray with sparkling water beside her.

Y/n laughed. "Because Bruce would totally approve of him!"

“With the cat he’s running around with, he ought to be more lenient,” Alfred quipped.

"See, that's why you're my favorite butler," Y/n smiled, leaning back in the chair.

“That would imply you know other butlers,” Alfred replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you’re my one and only,” Y/n said with a grin.

Just then, a notification popped up on the Batcomputer, indicating a presence at the front door. Clicking onto the camera feed, Y/n saw Bruce arriving.

“I suppose I should answer that,” Alfred said, turning to head upstairs to greet Bruce.

While waiting in the Batcave, Y/n watched as Bruce entered. “Morning, Bruce,” she greeted him.

“It’s 2 PM,” Bruce corrected, glancing at the Batcomputer's clock.

Y/n snorted, checking the time herself. "So it is."

"You called me yesterday?" she asked, turning back to him.

“I was calling to tell you there was a Scarecrow sighting last night. Thought you might be interested,” Bruce informed her.

“Really? Damn,” Y/n said, surprised.

“Too bad you were busy with your friend,” Bruce teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

Y/n rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a grin. "You just love to rub it in, don’t you?"

"I don’t know why I don’t get to meet him," Bruce said, crossing his arms, his tone somewhere between curious and irritated.

"Because you’d be weird about it," Y/n shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly. "Weird? I’m not weird. I just want to know who’s been spending so much time with you. Making sure he’s...trustworthy."

Y/n rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Exactly. That's what I mean by weird. You’d give him the whole ‘protective’ speech, probably stalked him. Plus, you two aren't exactly the same type of...career men."

Bruce huffed, clearly unconvinced. "It’s my job to stalk."

“And you'd probably scare him off," Y/n added, shaking her head with amusement. "You’d interrogate him like he’s some criminal mastermind."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "And is he?"

Y/n hesitated for a split second before shrugging, her grin widening. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Bruce’s expression softened, though his curiosity remained. "I just don’t want you getting hurt. That's all."

Y/n smiled at the sincerity behind his words. "I know, Bruce. But trust me, I’ve got this."

Bruce eyed her for a moment longer, his sharp gaze searching her face for any cracks in her confidence. When he didn’t find any, he finally sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. "Alright, I’ll back off…for now."

Y/n chuckled softly, pushing herself off the Batcomputer and stretching her arms above her head. "Appreciated. Besides, I think he'd be more scared of you than you’d be of him."

Bruce smirked, clearly amused by the idea. "If he's smart, he should be."

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, but before she could respond, the Batcomputer beeped to life, pulling both their attention to the screen. The glowing red alert flashed in sync with a detailed map of Gotham’s city grid.

"What now?" Y/n muttered, leaning closer to get a better look.

Bruce’s expression instantly hardened, the switch from casual conversation to business happening within seconds. His fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up more data.

"Another Scarecrow sighting," he said, voice low and focused. The map zoomed in on a section of the Narrows, where several alarms had been triggered in what looked like an abandoned factory. "This could be serious."

Y/n's stomach flipped at the mention, her mind immediately jumping to Jonathan. She tried to keep her cool, but the worry crept in before she could stop it. "You're sure it’s him?" she asked, her voice steady despite the growing unease.

Bruce glanced at her, noting the change in her tone, but didn't comment. "The chemicals found at the scene match his previous attacks. It's a safe assumption."

Y/n swallowed hard, her thoughts racing. Jonathan had said he wasn’t planning anything for today...but if this sighting was real, she had no idea what he was up to.

"I’ll handle this," Bruce said, grabbing his cowl from the side. "You stay here. I don’t want you getting mixed up in it."

Y/n clenched her fists, forcing herself to keep her expression neutral. "I can help, Bruce."

"Not this time," he said firmly, already moving toward the Batmobile.

Y/n hesitated, torn between her loyalty to Bruce and her concern for Jonathan. "Just...be careful, okay?" she called after him.

Bruce paused at the Batmobile’s door, glancing back at her. "Always," he said, slipping into the driver’s seat and speeding off into the cave’s tunnel.

As the roar of the Batmobile faded, Y/n stood there for a moment, her mind swirling with what to do next. She could wait for Bruce to handle it like he always did...or she could find out for herself what Jonathan was really up to. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/n made up her mind. She wasn’t going to sit on the sidelines this time.

Y/n snatched her phone off the desk, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands shook slightly as she scrolled to Jonathan's contact and hit call. She wasn’t even sure why she was so furious, after all, she hadn’t explicitly told him to quit his villainous habits, but she thought he’d at least try. That hope had been dashed with Bruce’s news.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. She didn’t expect him to pick up. In fact, she was already mentally preparing for the voicemail beep. But then, to her surprise, his calm voice came through the line.

"Hello?"

Y/n blinked, caught off guard. "What the fuck are you doing?"

There was a pause, followed by a confused, “What?"

"Don't ‘what’ me, Jonathan," Y/n snapped, pacing now. "Bruce just told me there’s a Scarecrow sighting in the Narrows. Your gas was spotted. What the fuck, Jonathan?!" 

Jonathan let out an exasperated sigh. “...I’m at work. Like, real work. At Arkham.”

Y/n stopped pacing, furrowing her brow. "You’re...at Arkham?" She was still furious, but confusion was starting to take over. "But your gas-"

"Is in the Narrows, yeah, I know…" he cut her off, his tone darkening. "It’s Poison Ivy."

"Poison Ivy?" Y/n repeated, the confusion on her face deepening.

"Yeah, we made a deal a while back," Jonathan admitted, sounding less than pleased. "I gave her some of my chemical mixes in exchange for some of her plant matter. She must be using it now."

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, feeling a mix of frustration and relief. "So you're not...?" She trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence. She had been ready to go off on him, but now…

"No, I’m not running around the Narrows today," Jonathan muttered, clearly irritated by the whole situation. "And you think I’d be that sloppy if I were?"

Y/n exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. "God, Jonathan, you could’ve warned me about the deal."

"I didn’t think she'd use it, honestly," he replied, his voice edged with frustration. "She’s impulsive when it comes to her little vendettas."

Y/n felt the anger fading, though she was still annoyed. "You’re lucky Bruce doesn’t know it’s Ivy yet."

Jonathan snorted. "Well, let’s keep it that way, shall we?"

"Yeah," she muttered. There was a beat of silence on the line before she sighed. "You better not be lying."

“I’m not," Jonathan replied, his voice softening a little. "Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I’m trying, Y/n. I really am."

She bit her lip, feeling a mixture of emotions. "Okay. Just...don’t make me regret trusting you."

“I won’t,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten.

Y/n nodded to herself, even though he couldn’t see it. “Fine. I’ll deal with Bruce. You deal with Ivy.”

“Easier said than done,” Jonathan muttered.

She huffed. "Tell me about it."

After hanging up, Y/n tossed her phone onto the Batcomputer desk, running a hand through her hair. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the frustration still simmering beneath the surface. It was hard to stay mad at Jonathan when it turned out he wasn’t the one running around as Scarecrow today. But it didn’t make things any easier. But if Bruce found out Ivy was using his gas, it might blow some smoke off of Jonathan.

Y/n sank into the chair in front of the Batcomputer, her fingers drumming anxiously against the desk. Bruce had already left for the Narrows, but now she had new information, information that possibly helped the situation. 

She reached for her phone and quickly dialed Bruce’s number. It didn’t take long for him to pick up.

“What is it?” Bruce’s gruff voice came through the line, filled with urgency.

Y/n exhaled sharply. “I know it’s Ivy.”

There was a pause on the other end before Bruce spoke again. “And how did you get this infomation?”

Y/n hesitated, her mind flashing back to her not-so-distant past. “Let’s just say Scarecrow gave me some insight.” Her tone was sharp and cautious.

There was another brief silence. Then Bruce’s voice, lower and more guarded, came back. “When?”

“When he reversed his drug effects on me. I found out some things during that lovely little vacation, like how he and Ivy have this deal. Something about trading toxins, he gave her some of his gas formulas.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Bruce’s question wasn’t accusing, but the tension in his voice made it clear he wasn’t pleased.

“I didn’t think it would come up again,” Y/n said defensively, her fingers tightening around the phone. She hated lying to Bruce. “And…well, I didn’t exactly want to give you more reasons to go after Scarecrow. He did save me..”

Bruce’s sigh echoed through the phone. “You know this makes things more complicated.”

“I know,” Y/n muttered. “But Scarecrow wasn’t lying. He didn’t know Ivy was planning to use it, and now that she is, we’ve got a mess on our hands.”

There was the sound of movement on Bruce’s end, probably him moving through the dark streets of Gotham. “Stay on the Batcomputer. I’m close to the Narrows, but I need more intel on Ivy’s last known location. And we need to talk when I get back.”

“Got it,” Y/n responded, already pulling up files and maps, scanning through recent surveillance. “But Bruce…be careful. Ivy’s unpredictable, especially when she’s got a new toy.”

Bruce didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, his voice was firm. “I know.”

Y/n stayed glued to the screen, her heart pounding in her chest as she monitored Bruce’s position and scoured the data for any trace of Ivy. It was hard not to think about the delicate line she was walking, caught between the man she loved like a father figure and the villain who had once been her captor.

As the Batcomputer beeped with a new set of coordinates, Y/n’s eyes widened. “Bruce, I’ve got her. She’s holed up in one of the old greenhouses just north of the Narrows.”

“Send me the location,” Bruce replied, his tone all business.

Y/n tapped furiously on the keyboard, sending the details to his encrypted communicator. “I’ll come,”

“I don’t need backup,” Bruce replied.

Y/n smirked despite the tension. “Of course you don’t. Just be safe.”

The line went dead, and Y/n clenched her jaw, staring at the Batcomputer. She knew Bruce’s directive was clear, stay out of it. But sitting back and waiting wasn’t her style. Bruce wasn’t immune to Jonathan’s gas like she was, he was vulnerable, and knowing Ivy, she would have made the toxin much worse.

No. She wasn’t just going to sit there.

Without another thought, Y/n pushed back from the desk and made her way to the suit vault. She quickly donned her Batgirl outfit, every movement precise and practiced. The familiar weight of the cowl settled on her head, the cape brushing against her shoulders. A sense of purpose surged through her veins.

Screw Bruce’s order. She wasn’t letting him face this alone.

In record time, Y/n made her way to the Batmotorcycle. The engine roared to life beneath her, the vibrations tingling through her fingers as she gripped the handlebars. The chill Gotham air hit her full force as she sped out of the Batcave and onto the streets. 

Her heart raced, not just from the speed but from the anticipation. Ivy was unpredictable, and if she was mixing her plants with Scarecrow’s fear toxins, there was no telling how bad this could get. Bruce might be Batman, but even he couldn’t always do it alone. Not this time.

As the city blurred past her, Y/n’s mind focused on the coordinates she had sent Bruce earlier, the greenhouse north of the Narrows. If Ivy had set up there, then whatever she had planned would likely already be in motion.

She tightened her grip and accelerated. She wasn’t just backup. She was part of the team, and Bruce would have to deal with that when she got there.

Y/n weaved through the dark streets of Gotham, the distant sound of sirens blending into the night as her Batcycle roared toward the Narrows. The coordinates she had sent Bruce earlier were burned into her memory, guiding her through the labyrinth of alleys and side streets with pinpoint accuracy. The further she rode, the denser the buildings became, their looming shadows creating an eerie silence over the area.

When she finally reached the edge of the Narrows, the glowing greenhouse structure came into view. It was tucked behind a row of dilapidated buildings, just as she had suspected. Ivy was hiding in plain sight, and her mix of flora and Scarecrow’s fear toxins would be deadly if released.

Y/n slowed her bike as she approached, parking it behind a crumbling wall to keep it hidden. She surveyed the scene from a distance, her breath steady as she slipped off her helmet and carefully crouched down to get a better view.

A thin, green mist hung in the air, barely noticeable, but enough to set off alarms in her mind. The plants surrounding the greenhouse seemed to writhe unnaturally, their movements synchronized, as if they were waiting for Ivy’s command. Y/n gritted her teeth. She had to get in there before this escalated any further.

Suddenly, the low hum of a Batmobile engine caught her attention. Bruce was already here. She had no idea if he had spotted her yet, but there wasn’t time to worry about that now. She tapped into her comms.

“I’m here,” Y/n whispered into her earpiece, watching the shadows of the greenhouse. “Tell me you have a plan.”

A short pause followed before Bruce’s voice crackled through. “You weren’t supposed to come, Y/n.”

“I’m aware,” she shot back quietly. “But you’ll thank me later. What’s the move?”

Another brief silence before Bruce responded, his tone edged with reluctant acceptance. “Ivy’s inside. She’s preparing to release the toxins. I need you to disable the generators behind the greenhouse. If we cut the power, we’ll stop the spread before it gets worse.”

Y/n nodded to herself, scanning the area for an entry point. “Got it. I’m on it.”

Sticking to the shadows, she slipped around the greenhouse, staying low and silent. The air smelled heavy, rich with the scent of damp earth and something sickly sweet—probably the beginning traces of Ivy’s toxin. She had to move fast.

Reaching the back of the greenhouse, Y/n spotted the generators Bruce had mentioned. Thick vines coiled around them, pulsing faintly as if feeding off the energy. She pulled out a pair of batarangs, slicing through the foliage with careful precision.

Just as she was about to sever the last vine, a voice rang out behind her, smooth and melodic. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, darling.”

Y/n froze, her blood running cold. She turned slowly, and there stood Poison Ivy, her red hair gleaming under the moonlight, eyes glowing with a dangerous, otherworldly hue. She smiled, a slow, wicked smile.

“Wondering if you were gonna show up,” Ivy purred, taking a step forward. 

Y/n tightened her grip on the batarangs, her heart pounding but her face steady. “What’s your deal here, Ivy? This isn’t your usual style.”

Ivy’s smile widened, her fingers trailing through the air as the plants around them quivered in response. “Oh, you’d be surprised. Gotham needs cleansing. And with a little help from Scarecrow’s toxins, I’ll make sure it happens.”

Before Y/n could react, the vines whipped out, wrapping around her wrist and pulling her off balance. She stumbled, but quickly regained her footing, yanking her arm free with a sharp tug. Ivy laughed softly, the sound echoing through the garden.

But Y/n wasn’t backing down. "You’re not cleansing anything..”

With a quick movement, she hurled the batarangs at the remaining vines, slicing through them cleanly. The generators sputtered, their lights flickering before the power shut off completely. The greenhouse dimmed as the machinery inside ground to a halt.

Ivy’s smile vanished, replaced with a cold, calculating glare. She growled, raising her hands as the plants around them surged to life.

Just as the vines began to close in, Y/n heard a low groan from across the greenhouse. Her eyes darted to the source, and her heart dropped. There, amidst the writhing green tendrils, Batman was bound, arms and legs ensnared by thick vines, his body slumped against them. His cape was torn, his breathing labored, and his face was pale. Ivy had already hit him with a dose of her toxin, enough to weaken even Batman.

Ivy’s laughter echoed through the greenhouse as she stepped into view, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Oh, look at him,” she cooed mockingly. “The mighty Dark Knight, felled by a little plant. Isn’t he beautiful when he’s helpless?”

Y/n’s blood boiled, but she kept her face neutral, watching every move Ivy made. Her heart raced. She had to free Bruce before it was too late. But Ivy wasn’t finished yet.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you, little Bat?” Ivy sneered, her gaze now fixed on Y/n. “Disabling my power? Stopping my plan?” She stepped forward, cradling a vial of her signature toxin, swirling with an ominous green mist. “Well, let's see how clever you are after a dose of this.”

Before Y/n could react, Ivy flung the vial at her feet, shattering it with a sharp crack. The toxic gas billowed out, curling around Y/n in a cloud of green haze. Ivy grinned wickedly, certain she had won.

But something was wrong. Y/n stood there, her expression unchanging as the gas swirled around her. No coughing, no dizziness, nothing. Ivy’s smile faltered.

Y/n scoffed. “That’s not going to work on me, Ivy.”

Ivy blinked in disbelief. “What…?” she breathed, watching in shock as Y/n stepped forward, completely unaffected by the gas that should’ve incapacitated her.

“You can thank Scarecrow for that,” Y/n said, her voice edged with confidence. 

Ivy’s face twisted in fury. “That traitor,” she spat, raising her hands to command the vines. But Y/n was faster.

With a quick flick of her wrist, Y/n hurled a batarang through the air, slicing cleanly through the vines that held Bruce captive. He slumped to the ground with a grunt, but he was free.

“Get her!” Ivy screamed, and the plants surged toward Y/n, but she was ready. She dodged and weaved between the tendrils, her agility unmatched as she closed the distance between her and Ivy.

Before Ivy could react, Y/n landed a solid punch to her gut, knocking the wind out of her. The plants faltered, their connection to Ivy weakening as she stumbled back.

Y/n's grip tightened on Ivy's collar, her breath heavy with adrenaline. "Give it up, Ivy," she hissed. But Ivy’s smirk only widened, eyes glinting with malicious intent.

"You really think you can threaten me?" Ivy scoffed, and with a wave of her hand, the vines surged to life once more. This time, Y/n wasn’t fast enough. Thick, thorny tendrils wrapped around her wrists and ankles, yanking her off her feet and slamming her into the ground.

She winced, pain shooting through her body as she struggled against the vines. Ivy stood over her, victorious, her emerald eyes glowing with satisfaction.

"Poor little Bat," Ivy sneered, crouching down to Y/n’s level. "You really thought you could take me on your own? Without your precious Batman to save you?"

Y/n gritted her teeth, yanking at the vines, but it was no use. They only tightened around her limbs, cutting into her skin. She was stuck, helpless as Ivy reached for another vial of her toxin, twirling it between her fingers.

"This will be much more fun," Ivy purred.

Y/n's heart raced. She had never been this close to defeat. Her mind raced for a way out, but the vines held her too tight. Batman was still too out of it to help.

Just as Ivy raised the vial to unleash its deadly contents, the sound of footsteps echoed through the greenhouse.

Ivy froze, turning her head slightly. Before she could react, a cloud of smoke enveloped her. Y/n’s eyes widened as Ivy gasped, although it had no effect on the pair, it still clouded the room in a thick smog.

Out of the smoke stepped the Scarecrow, his form looming ominously. "Ivy," he drawled, his voice distorted and menacing, "did you forget our little agreement? No playing with my things."

Ivy’s expression morphed from anger to confusion as she saw Jonathan approaching. The smoke began to clear, and she got a better view, but before she could fully process the situation, a dark figure emerged from the shadows behind her.

Batman, clad in his black armor, lunged forward with a swift precision that took Ivy by surprise. He had been lurking just out of sight, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. With a powerful sweep, he knocked Ivy off her feet, sending her crashing to the ground. 

Ivy glared up at him, her confusion shifting back to fury as she scrambled to regain her footing. But she was no match for Batman’s physical strength. Jonathan must have injected him with an antidote before he entered, and now Bruce was fully alert, his abilities restored. 

Bruce moved with lethal efficiency, closing the distance between him and Ivy in a heartbeat. With a single, powerful punch, he connected with her jaw, sending her sprawling to the ground. The force of the blow left Ivy dazed, and she struggled to regain her bearings.

Without missing a beat, Batman swiftly produced a set of restraints from his utility belt. He moved in to secure Ivy, tying her up with expert precision before she could fully recover. Ivy glared up at him as he tightened the knot, her defiance still flickering in her eyes, but she was completely at his mercy now. 

Scarecrow strode over to Y/n, his sharp gaze locked onto hers as he effortlessly sliced through the vines with a concealed blade, freeing her from Ivy’s grasp. He crouched beside her, his face mere inches from hers.

"You really shouldn’t be here," he said softly, almost teasingly, though there was an underlying concern in his tone. "You promised me you’d stay out of trouble."

Y/n panted, still reeling from the fight. "Yeah, well...so did you," she muttered, rubbing her sore wrists.

Jonathan stood, offering her a hand. She hesitated for only a second before taking it, allowing him to help her to her feet.

"I thought you weren’t the rescuing type," Y/n quipped, her voice shaky but defiant.

Jonathan tilted his head, his mask concealing his expression, though she could almost feel the smirk behind it. "I’m not. But it seems you’re always the exception."

Before Y/n could respond, a deep voice suddenly broke through the tension of the moment. “Am I interrupting something?” 

Y/n turned to see Bruce emerging from the shadows, his imposing figure silhouetted against the dim light of the greenhouse. She felt a rush of relief mixed with anxiety as he approached, his gaze scanning the chaotic scene.

“Uhh,” Y/n barely replied.

“Scarecrow.” Batman began to step closer, his cape billowing slightly with the movement, but Y/n quickly stepped forward, shielding Jonathan from Bruce’s intense scrutiny.

“Wait! Batman, he helped us...” Y/n said, casting a fleeting glance at Jonathan, who stood beside her, calm and composed amidst the chaos. “He came just in time.”

Batman’s expression remained unyielding, a hardened mask that betrayed nothing but the weight of his concern. Frustration flickered across his features as he assessed the aftermath of the battle. “You should never have come. I told you to stay put.”

Y/n felt her heart race at his reprimand, but she couldn’t let it go unchallenged. “I know, and I’m sorry, but we did it!”

Bruce's gaze shifted back to Jonathan, his voice low and demanding. “Care to explain the guest?”

Y/n struggled to articulate the whirlwind of events that had led to this moment, especially with Ivy still unconscious on the floor. “Can we talk about this later?” she said, urgency creeping into her voice.

“Not if you want him out of Arkham,” Batman replied, his tone brokering no argument.

Y/n let out a dry chuckle, the tension almost absurd. “Haha, funny you say that…”

Before she could gather her thoughts, Jonathan stepped forward, his demeanor unexpectedly calm and measured. “I am more than willing to discuss this with you elsewhere,” he said, his voice smooth yet authoritative.

This candid offer took Y/n by surprise, she hadn’t expected him to be so amenable, especially given the circumstances. Her eyes darted between Jonathan and Batman, searching for signs of tension or underlying animosity. “Scarecrow, are you sure?” she asked, hesitating as the implications of his statement settled in.

“I don’t want to cause more trouble than necessary,” he replied, his mask obscuring any deeper emotion. “But I think it’s vital we have a proper conversation about what happened tonight.”

Batman narrowed his eyes, still assessing Jonathan with a blend of skepticism and wariness. “I’m not so sure I can trust you just yet,” he said, his voice steady. “Your methods are... unconventional.”

“True, but tonight, I acted in your favor,” Jonathan replied, meeting Bruce's gaze with unwavering confidence. “Besides, you don’t want to waste this opportunity to learn more about Ivy’s plans and the potential threat they pose.”

Y/n felt the weight of the moment. She knew that trusting Jonathan came with risks, but he had also proven himself when it mattered most. “Batman, he’s right,” she added, hoping to bridge the gap.

Batman considered her words, the tension in the air palpable. Finally, he nodded slowly, the hardened expression softening ever so slightly. “Fine,” he said. “But this is not a free pass, Scarecrow. I’ll be watching you closely.”

Jonathan inclined his head. “Understood. Shall we?” He replied, his tone light, but there was an unmistakable edge to his words.

Just then, the wailing of sirens echoed through the night, cutting through the remnants of chaos like a knife. The sound sent a jolt through Y/n. “We need to move,” she urged, glancing back toward the entrance of the greenhouse where Ivy lay incapacitated.

Without waiting for a response, the three of them rushed out of the building, the scent of damp earth and foliage mingling with the sharp tang of adrenaline in the air. They quickly scanned their surroundings, seeking a more suitable location to discuss their precarious situation.

Batman moved toward a nearby alley, the shadows deep and inviting. They ducked into the narrow passage, the sound of the sirens fading into the distance as they found a moment of respite. 

Y/n leaned against the cold brick wall, her heart still racing from the encounter. “We can’t stay here for long,” she said, glancing at both men. 

“Agreed,” Batman said, his voice steady as he took a position near the entrance of the alley, keeping a watchful eye on the street. “But I’m more focused on the criminal in front of me right now.”

Y/n glanced at Jonathan, who remained calm and collected, his mask shadowing his expression. “I did my best” she began, her voice steadying as she recounted the events leading up to Ivy’s defeat. “I tried to stop her, but she caught me in the process. He showed up just in time to help.”

“How did he even know what was going on?” Batman asked, standing tall and imposing as he glared at Jonathan.

“Let’s not forget that I saved your life. If it weren’t for my anti-toxin, you’d still be on the floor,” Scarecrow retorted, his voice laced with a mix of arrogance and confidence.

Y/n forced a chuckle, though there was no humor in it. The tension was palpable as she glanced at Batman’s sharp eyes, her heart racing. “I-I told him…”

“And why did he come?” Batman demanded, his gaze unwavering, dissecting every nuance of Jonathan’s expression.

“I had my reasons,” Jonathan replied, his tone turning serious.

“And it’s those reasons I’d like to understand,” Batman pressed, his voice low and commanding.

Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settle in her chest. “He came for me, Batman. You already know that.”

“But I want to hear it from him,” Batman insisted, not breaking eye contact.

Jonathan remained unfazed. “I came because she called for me. She thought it was my attack downtown, and I knew she would rush to confront it. I didn’t want her getting hurt. She’s good at what she does, but she doesn’t always think.”

“Hey!” Y/n shot back, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

“And you knew I’d be there,” Batman interjected, his tone incredulous.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t you be?” Jonathan replied smoothly. “It was you who took my mask that day, wasn’t it?”

Batman reached behind him and pulled out a piece of fabric, the unmistakable outline of Jonathan’s mask. “I’ve known for a while,” he admitted, his voice steady.

Y/n’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? And you said nothing?”

“I was waiting for you to tell me,” Batman responded, his tone unyielding. 

Y/n crossed her arms, muttering under her breath, “So not cool.”

Jonathan smirked under his mask, eyeing Batman. “So, what are you going to do to me, Batman? Lock me up?”

Batman tossed the mask toward Jonathan with a swift motion. “Not tonight, Crane.”

Jonathan caught the mask effortlessly and tucked it into his pocket, a glimmer of triumph in his eyes. Batman continued, his voice low and steady, “I’m guessing you know who I am as well?”

“I have an idea…” Jonathan replied.

The tension between Batman and Jonathan hung thick in the air, both men staring each other down in a silent standoff. Y/n felt the weight of their gaze as she stood between them, unsure of what to say next.

Y/n shifted nervously between the two, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Well…” she started, trying to defuse the tension in the air. 

Before she could say anymore, Batman’s voice broke the silence. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, Crane. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”

Jonathan chuckled, the sound low and unsettling. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from the great Dark Knight.”

Y/n shifted her weight, glancing nervously between the two. “Cool, let’s drop it then, okay?” she said, forcing a nervous laugh. 

Batman’s stern gaze flicked to her. “You’re treading dangerous ground, Y/n. Associating with him,” he nodded toward Jonathan “is a mistake. He can’t be trusted.”

Jonathan’s eyes darkened, his voice cold. “Trust is a matter of perspective, Batman. And right now, it seems she trusts me a great amount.”

Y/n felt her chest tighten. “You’re one to talk, Batman,” she said quickly, trying to bridge the widening gap between them. “The entire city knows about yours at Cat Women’s fling..”

“They’re two very different criminals,” Batman asked, his voice sharp, causing Y/n to groan. “Maybe he’s just playing a longer game, using you as a pawn.”

Jonathan stepped closer, his voice calm but edged with warning. “If I were playing a game, Batman, I’d have made my move by now. But this…tonight…I did it for her.”

The statement hung in the air, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. She looked up at Jonathan, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

Batman narrowed his eyes. “You’re walking a fine line, Crane. Don’t think I won’t be there when you cross it.”

Y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Okay, how about we call it a night?” she suggested, desperate to break the tension. 

Batman’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned, his cape billowing as he strode into the shadows. “Stay out of trouble,” he muttered, disappearing into the night.

Jonathan watched him go, then turned to Y/n, his eyes softer than they had been a moment ago. “You should listen to him, you know.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Says you.”

Jonathan smirked, his usual calm confidence returning. “Touché.”

Y/n sighed, looking up at him. “Why did you really come tonight?”

Jonathan paused, his expression unreadable. “I told you. I didn’t want you getting hurt.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The night felt strangely still, as if the chaos from earlier had been swept away.

Y/n glanced back toward the city, then at Jonathan. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

Jonathan gave her a look, glancing at Y/n, his expression softening just slightly. “Not a chance,” he said, he tucked the mask away and stepped closer. “I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Wait, what? You’re not busy? I’ve already wasted a lot of your time.”

Jonathan’s gaze remained steady, unyielding. “You’ve had a rough night. I’m not letting you walk home alone.” His tone was calm, but there was no room for argument.

Y/n hesitated, glancing at the empty street. Part of her wanted to protest, but the other part felt a strange comfort in his words. She sighed, giving him a half-smile. “You know I can protect myself.”

Y/n shed her outer layers in the shadowed alley, blending into the darkness to avoid drawing attention.

Without another word, the two of them started walking down the quiet streets, side by side. The tension from earlier faded with each step, replaced by an odd sense of ease. Y/n glanced at Jonathan out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t the same man she had faced in battle countless times. There was something different tonight, a strange connection between them that she couldn’t quite shake.

As they reached her apartment building, Jonathan paused at the entrance, his gaze scanning the area with sharp precision. Just then, the sound of flapping wings broke the silence. Craw came swooping down from the sky, a single flower clasped in its beak. It dropped the delicate bloom right into Y/n's hands before perching itself on Jonathan’s shoulder.

Y/n looked at the flower in surprise, recognizing the rare blossom immediately. “A flower delivery?” she teased, raising an eyebrow as she twirled the stem between her fingers.

Jonathan glanced at Craw and then at the flower, his face carefully neutral. “Must’ve been hunting and got distracted,” he said smoothly, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Birds are unpredictable like that.”

Y/n chuckled, stepping closer to him. “Right. A total coincidence.”

She stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just long enough to make him freeze for a moment. His smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something he didn’t quite let show often.

As she pulled back, Y/n smiled warmly, clutching the flower to her chest. “Thanks, Jonathan.”

He cleared his throat, brushing off the moment as Craw flapped its wings once more. “Don’t mention it.”

Y/n walked into the apartment complex, hesitating for a moment. She glanced back at Jonathan, who was still standing there, his usual guarded demeanor softening. 

“Are you coming up?” she asked, her voice quieter than before.

Jonathan's eyes flickered with something unreadable before he gave a slight nod. “If you’ll have me,” he replied, stepping forward.

They walked up to her apartment together in comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft flutter of Craw’s wings as the crow swooped ahead of them. When they reached her door, Y/n pushed it open and stepped inside, feeling Jonathan’s presence right behind her.

As the door shut behind them, the weight of Gotham, of the night’s events, seemed to fade away. There were no masks, no games, just the quiet understanding between them that, somehow, this felt right.

-

A/N: Sorry if it isn't good, I got through half of it then disappeared for ages, then carried on, so if it doesn't line up right then...oops I will not be writing any more parts for this, as there is nothing else for me to add to this fic, sorry I also ended up finishing this fic at like...2am, so if it's shit...my bad again Thank you for the support and I hope you did enjoy :) 💚